


if the seas catch fire

by 64907



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Community: ninoexchange, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rivalry, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 02:18:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 57,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7386706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/64907/pseuds/64907
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nino gets the job as an interpreter for one of Earth's ambassadors, he didn't expect to form a rivalry with the Ambassador's private secretary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gomushroom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gomushroom/gifts).



> Originally written for ninoexchange.
> 
> Thank you to my betas for this piece: blaine, to whom this “space interpreter” idea belongs to in the first place and whose comments _saved_ the thing, and Nino ex’s amazing mod who spotted my mistakes. If there are any left, they are all mine.
> 
> Also thanking Lorde’s voice because I could only work on this when I was listening to her songs.
> 
> For more information on the PTSD tag, please see the end notes (contains spoilers).

From up here, the world looks a bit different.  
  
That is the first thing he notices. Earth is really _just_ a planet, a chunk of habitable area in the vastness that is the universe. As the shuttle takes him farther away, Earth becomes more like a ball of blue, white, and green—a plethora of soft hues shaped like a marble.  
  
Like he can hold it in his hand.  
  
Do that and that makes you a dictator, he thinks. A tyrant. The thought triggers an unwanted memory and he shuts his eyes.  
  
When he opens them again, he sees nothing but the stars. The shuttle has flown far enough that he has to lean forward if he wants to see one last glimpse of his home planet. Instead he focuses on the stars, wondering how far they are, how some of them are remnants of the past.  
  
Some of these are dead, he realizes. Staring at them as they twinkle, he somehow understands now why there are those who believed that they lead the path to home. He was never the enthusiastic traveler, not even on Earth, but up here, everything seems different. It’s like he’s not himself but a speck of combined particles that somehow became its own organism. Out here, he’s too small to even count.  
  
It brings things into a new perspective.  
  
“We’re entering the space station,” the pilot’s voice announces via the comms. When his eyes flit to the side, he sees them: the towering scaffolds holding the infrastructure that supported Earth’s intergalactic affairs. Floating in space, the station is almost similar to a Titan amidst an endless sea of black.  
  
He feels the tractor beam pull the shuttle and he unfastens his seatbelt to slouch more in his seat. Looking out, he can’t even see Earth anymore, and now he feels that he’s truly out here where there’s a threat of an intergalactic war at every turn. The space station, despite its size, seems like a chess piece at the center of a board, a mere pawn awaiting capture.  
  
And what does that make him, he wonders. Does he even constitute a piece?  
  
Unlikely.  
  
He shakes his head. He’s not here to deal with matters of governance. He’s not here to join the fight.  
  
Then what are you here for, he asks himself.  
  
“Ninomiya Kazunari-san?” a voice says, and dazedly, he turns toward it. Somehow, his thoughts had managed to tune out everything else. A few feet to his right stands a female officer, the badge pinned on her chest shining under the light.  
  
“Yes?” he acknowledges. He doesn’t bother to fix his posture. “What is it?”  
  
The officer bows. “The Ambassador extends his welcome. He, however, apologizes for not being able to meet you. He’s still in the Beta Quadrant. The ongoing negotiations encountered a few technicalities.”  
  
“I see.” He straightens and looks around for show. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime, officer?” If they send him back, that is fine with him. He once vowed never to venture out to space again. But he can take a sign, especially when he’s second-guessing himself.  
  
She smiles genially despite their lack of association. “The Ambassador’s secretary would like to meet you. If you would follow me, please?”  
  
Nino complies. He tails behind her, a pack slung over his shoulder, full of things he couldn’t leave behind. She leads him out of the shuttle, down the ramp of the opened hatch, and when his foot touches the metal flooring of the hangar, he looks up.  
  
The last time he’d been in this space station, it was just after...he couldn’t remember much then; it felt like a happening that belonged in another lifetime. The noises emitted by the shuttles going in and out of the hangar remind him of what he’s really here for. He has probably heard these before—the sounds of thrusters roaring to life, the thump of a shuttle when it finally makes contact with steel underneath it—he _must_ have.  
  
But he can’t quite recall.  
  
“This way, please.” The officer’s voice is still audible amidst the overflowing activity. Repairs and passenger checks are occurring left and right, and a few paces in front of him is an ongoing cargo inspection.  
  
A port in outer space, floating some thousands of miles above Earth. That’s what this place is. He remembers now. It’s not the beacon of hope from his childhood. It’s just a parking space that also houses a bunch of important people. People who did nothing back then.  
  
He shakes his head. He’s not here for sentiment. He’s not here to tread once more on burned bridges, either.  
  
They reach an elevator that takes them up to the 35th floor of the facility, but Nino hardly notices it until the doors open, revealing a room so spacious he thinks it can fit three shuttles inside.  
  
The female officer doesn’t say a word, and when Nino turns to her, she merely gestures that he step out and go on.  
  
His footsteps echo and he hates it. He has never liked feeling small and insignificant. The elevator doors shut behind him, and he takes in the minimal decor of the place as a distraction. If this floor serves as the Ambassador’s level, perhaps the adjustment will take longer than usual once the trip happens, if his future employer is accustomed to having such a massive space to himself.  
  
“Ninomiya-san, I presume?” someone calls out, and it’s then that Nino notices a man standing in front of the glass panes that overlook the hangar. He’s half-hidden in shadows, but his face is bathed in light from the outside. Nino would’ve noticed him, but he didn’t move until he opened his mouth. He’s watching Nino’s reflection in the glass, his hands clasped behind him.  
  
Seeing his every movement being monitored, Nino nods curtly.  
  
The man smiles, but there’s no welcome there, only a polite greeting. “Please have a seat.” He casts a pointed look at the chair in front of Nino.  
  
Nino offers a smile of his own. “I respectfully decline.”  
  
That gets the man to face and approach Nino in confident strides. The way he carries himself speaks of years of experience and authority. It is curious that he is not the Ambassador.  
  
The man offers his hand, and Nino shakes it cautiously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in the flesh. I hope your journey wasn’t too uncomfortable? We would have secured a seat for you in the economy class shuttles, but the Ambassador insisted that you travel in a private one, being a new member of his emissary.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Nino says. “The trip was short anyway. Though I had no one to talk to and that made it lonely.”  
  
He gets an eyebrow twitch and nothing more. “And to make up for that, it is expected that you will be doing a lot of talking for the duration of the mission.” The man bows a little. “Sakurai Sho. I’m the Ambassador’s private secretary.”  
  
Nino inclines his head in acknowledgement, returning nothing. Sakurai knows his name already. Instead he looks out to the view of the hangar. “I’ve been told that the Ambassador is still in the Beta Quadrant.”  
  
“You’ve been informed correctly,” Sakurai says. He walks back to his original position, resumes to watch the shuttles outside and Nino’s reflection inside.  
  
“And you did not accompany him? Despite being his assistant?”  
  
He catches Sakurai’s eyes narrowing, and he keeps his expression curious and innocent. “The Ambassador requested that I remain here to help you familiarize yourself with your responsibilities.”  
  
Nino doesn’t miss his choice of words. Requested, not ordered.  
  
“Seeing as some of those overlap with some of mine,” Sakurai continues, “he thought it would be more productive if you were already oriented with your duties upon his return. He wants to leave immediately as soon as he’s back.”  
  
Nino hums. “A little strict with schedules, is he?”  
  
“That might be my doing. Still, he extends his apologies for the delay in meeting you. The negotiations have fallen behind schedule.”  
  
“I understand.” Nino shifts his weight to the other foot and straightens his posture. The job starts now. If Sakurai carries himself with confidence, he supposes he should, too. Someone like the Ambassador seems to expect that from the people surrounding him.  
  
“But if I may ask one more thing—” Nino begins, and he sees Sakurai’s reflection frown, “—as the Ambassador’s private secretary, you are well-versed with the languages of the other species we’ve made contact with. Why hire another interpreter when the Ambassador has someone like you?”  
  
Nino waits, but Sakurai says nothing. He lets the seconds tick by awkwardly, the only question in his mind since he applied for the job hanging in the air between them.  
  
Sakurai lets out a breath, almost inaudible. “He insisted I should, to use his term, relax.” There’s the tiniest hint of a grimace on his round face, as if saying the words is a challenging task.  
  
Ah. Nino understands now. “He wishes for his assistant to learn how to delegate better?”  
  
Sakurai’s eyes are shut now, and though Nino sees a dash of anger in his features, the embarrassment prevails. “The Ambassador believes that everyone working for him and with him should have, more or less, an equal number of responsibilities.”  
  
A bit idealistic in Nino’s opinion, but perhaps that’s what makes the Ambassador perfect for the peace envoy.  
  
“And as his private secretary, Sakurai-san, you work too much,” Nino finishes for him.  
  
Sakurai doesn’t move a muscle, his eyes now focused on the incoming passenger and freight shuttles. His silence must mean that Nino hit the jackpot.  
  
Nino turns away. He got the job because this man before him is overworked. What an interesting reason to open up a position in the Ambassador’s emissary. He hasn’t met the man he’s going to work for yet, but Nino thinks he must be a very convincing individual, seeing as he was able to ask for another interpreter even when he already has Sakurai, who looks like he knows every alien language there is.  
  
Nino doesn’t even know half of the languages in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. He exaggerated about that part in his résumé.  
  
“The Ambassador will return three cycles from now,” Sakurai says, breaking the silence. “Two cycles after that, we will depart for the Delta Quadrant.”  
  
“But in the meantime?” Nino asks, knowing there’s something next.  
  
“I am to introduce you to the other members of the emissary.” Sakurai steps away from the glass, inclining his head in the direction of the elevator. “After which, we are expected to become familiar with the clear division of our duties.”  
  
Sakurai must be the type who plans every minute of his life, every waking moment catalogued. Nino wouldn’t be surprised if he had the events of today penciled out and memorized.  
  
He extends his arm in the direction of the elevator. “Lead the way then, Sakurai-san.”  
  
\--  
  
For his six-cycle stay in the space station, he gets to room with Aiba Masaki, the Ambassador’s private pilot. In contrast to Sakurai who is proper and always standing at attention—almost like a soldier—, Aiba is too casual, eager at times, full of smiles for someone he never knew until introduced to him.  
  
Aiba let him have the upper bunk and laughed when Nino said, “I bottom, but not this time,” as an explanation. In fact, Aiba Masaki laughed like it was the best joke he had ever heard, while Sakurai Sho made an impassive face and had no other reaction.  
  
A part of Nino believes that Sakurai might be part-robot, but when he asked Aiba about it, the pilot dismissed his idea, laughing all the while.  
  
“I would know if he’s part-machine, trust me,” Aiba said. It became the topic while they were eating together in the space station cafeteria, and back then Nino already wished to complain about the replicators’ inability to produce something suited to his palate. His miso soup tasted too bland to be even called as such.  
  
“You don’t tinker with the spacecrafts, do you?” Nino asked, a little worried.  
  
Aiba grinned. “I’m a pilot so that’s actually out of my jurisdiction, Nino.” Sharing a room had apparently given him the excuse to act familiar, but Nino didn’t mind. “But I’ve got basic training on tweaking some nasty wiring here and there, sure. Sho-chan’s not an android.”  
  
Hard to believe, Nino thinks as he recalls the conversation, especially now when he has Sakurai detailing each part of the peace envoy’s travel itinerary with a voice so clear and firm, as if he’s addressing a congress and not a colleague.  
  
“Should the diplomatic visit to Ilari prove to be successful, we are to take part in planetary festivities,” Sakurai is telling him, and Nino is just nodding. He’s been doing that since Sakurai started talking. “Do you speak Ilarian, Ninomiya-san?”  
  
Thankfully, that’s one of the things Nino didn’t lie about in his résumé. “Conversant.”  
  
It only earns him Sakurai’s nod. Nino is yet to impress him and it’s starting to become one of his goals. “The Ambassador is conversant in the language as well.” Sakurai’s head tilts. “But we are not going there to merely converse. We are to establish diplomatic ties.”  
  
There’s no mistaking the judgment in his tone. He probably thinks Nino only bothered to learn the language for flirting purposes in Earth’s smoky, interspecies bars.  
  
Not like Sakurai is wrong about that. But still.  
  
“You mean secure the allegiance of Ilari should intergalactic war break out,” Nino corrects.  
  
Sakurai doesn’t seem to appreciate being corrected, if that scrunch in his nose is anything to go on. Nino’s certain he’s beginning to tick this man off. “The political matters of the Union are not of our concern. You and I will be at the Ambassador’s side to interpret, and perhaps even supplement, whatever he is to say to the Ilarians.”  
  
“I’m perfectly aware of my duties, Sakurai-san,” Nino says, crossing his arms over his chest. He read the job description and spent three days hesitating before throwing caution to the wind and applying for it. “And after Ilari?”  
  
“We are to rendezvous with the royal vessel carrying the Zuran monarch. That’s the next diplomatic mission.”  
  
“I don’t speak Zuran,” Nino says, knowing it’s the next thing Sakurai will ask him.  
  
“Fortunately for the Ambassador, I do,” Sakurai says, not without a hint of arrogance. Nino understands why Sakurai is acting this way—Nino is somehow stealing parts of his job, all because his boss thinks he needs to loosen up. And as hardworking and diligent as he is, Sakurai, of course, took offense in that decision, despite his obvious respect for the Ambassador.  
  
Sometimes Nino gives in to the temptation of rubbing it in his face just to annoy him further. “ _I meant to say, I don’t speak Zuran very well. My accent’s a little off_ ,” Nino says, in perfectly pronounced Zuran. He puts on an expression of mock thought. “Or is it?” he asks, reverting back to standard.  
  
Nino doesn’t miss the way Sakurai’s nostrils flare.  
  
“Should the diplomatic ties be established successfully, we are to visit their home planet in a gesture of camaraderie,” Sakurai says instead, voice giving nothing away.  
  
“Then I hope it goes well; that would give me the chance to polish my skills.” Nino examines his cuticles. “Would that be all for today, Sakurai-san?”  
  
Sakurai is already turning off the holoboard that has the details of their itinerary. “Yes. The destination after contact with the Zuran monarch is not yet finalized.”  
  
Nino stands. “Then I consider myself dismissed, unless you have anything else to say?”  
  
“The Ambassador will arrive at 0700 in the day cycle,” Sakurai says. His voice makes Nino pause at the doors. “As a member of his peace envoy, you are expected to be there and welcome him.”  
  
Nino inclines his head. “Very well. Is there a dress code?”  
  
Sakurai pauses, his jaw set.  
  
Nino waits.  
  
“Dismissed, Ninomiya-san.”  
  
As soon as the doors whisk shut behind him, he lets out a chuckle.  
  
\--  
  
The Ambassador, Nino finds, is nothing like his private secretary.  
  
While Sakurai Sho has his reservations regarding Nino’s abilities (most of which he doesn’t exert an ounce of effort to hide), Matsumoto Jun is polite and welcoming, if a little shy.  
  
At first, Nino thought Matsumoto and Sakurai had an attitude swap. Matsumoto who has the stronger, sharper features is the more relaxed one, while Sakurai who has softer ones is the polite asshole in Nino’s life.  
  
Matsumoto insists that Nino should drop the formality since he’s younger than Nino and Sakurai, and Nino grabs the opportunity despite Sakurai’s constant reminders to Matsumoto that he’s the Ambassador and “proper respect ought to be given”.  
  
“None of that kind of talk today, Sho-kun, please,” Jun says with an exhausted sigh. For someone younger than Nino, his face doesn’t show it. “I spent the last three days negotiating a peace treaty, and if possible, I really don’t want to hear the word ‘respect’ until we’re on Ilari.”  
  
Sakurai inclines his head in apology but says nothing else. He’s standing beside Jun, who’s seated behind a desk that has three data pads on it. Nino’s in the chair across him, and he finds their dynamic interesting to observe.  
  
“How would you like for me to call you?” Jun addresses him.  
  
Nino shrugs. “Everyone calls me Nino.”  
  
Jun smiles, and Nino’s certain that one won him a couple of interspecies’ allegiance. No wonder they’re ordering him to venture out. “Nino it is. Sho-kun has provided me with a list of the languages you speak as well as with your level of mastery for each.”  
  
Nino raises an eyebrow, and beside Jun, he sees Sakurai giving him a questioning look in return. “ _My Ilarian is only enough to get us through the doors of the nearest interspecies bar_ ,” he admits in the language. “ _Is that enough?_ ”  
  
Sakurai’s eyes narrow while Jun laughs.  
  
“ _I’m out of practice since I have Sho-kun_ ,” Jun replies in the foreign tongue, his accent more off than Nino’s. “So I will still be sticking to standard when we reach the planet, if you don’t mind. Lucky for us that Sho-kun here knows the language well.”  
  
“Lucky indeed,” Nino agrees. “Your assistant is a man of many talents.”  
  
“And he makes my life harder because of it,” Jun says with a wave of his hand, and he and Nino share a laugh while Sakurai merely shakes his head once. Jun shoots one glance at his secretary and turns back to Nino. “Sho-kun thinks I don’t need another translator. I’ll have you know, Nino, that he expressed his utmost disagreement with my decision as politely as he could.”  
  
It’s strange that there’s no trace of being offended in Jun’s voice. How long have they been working together? “And yet you didn’t listen to him.”  
  
Jun grins, giving Sakurai another look. “We’ve never ventured out this far before. The diplomatic convention in the Beta Quadrant lasted for a week, and that was done with all the other ambassadors from the planets we’ve made contact with. Now we’re being asked by the Union to go to the outer planets to establish trust. Instead of hosting another convention, they would rather send me out.”  
  
The Union sees them as pawns. He wasn’t wrong about being a chess piece. He was wrong, however, when he thought he wouldn’t be a part of the game. “You have your concerns as ambassador.”  
  
“Yes, and they’re the ones I can’t voice to any of those in the High Council. But that’s not what you’re here for. Sho-kun is, still, my primary interpreter. However, in chances that he—” Jun waves his hand, “—misses a word, I expect you to step up. Any pause, no matter how short, can be a cause for misunderstanding. One we must avoid at all costs.”  
  
Sakurai’s gaze is fixed to a certain spot in the wall, clearly not pleased that Jun has doubts over his abilities. “I will endeavor not to cause any problems.”  
  
“I’m not saying you will,” Jun says. “But we’ve never been to the Delta Quadrant. You may be fluent in the languages of the planets we’re visiting, but it’s not like you’ve been practicing them. I hired Nino so there’s someone who can fill in the blanks, just in case.”  
  
Jun faces him. “So that’s what I expect from you, Nino. I’m not after a very accurate translation. Just get my point across and never give them the chance to doubt or even question my capabilities, most especially my intentions. Can I trust you to do that?”  
  
Nino nods. “I’ll do my best.”  
  
“Fair enough.” Jun flashes him a smile, and Nino decides then and there that he can learn to like his boss. “The mission duration is less than a year, eight months at most, they say,” Jun says, looking at him before turning to Sho. “You two can get along by then, right?”  
  
“I’ll do my best,” Sakurai says, a perfect imitation of Nino earlier.  
  
Jun has his tongue against his cheek, suppressing the urge to laugh.  
  
He’s enjoying this, Nino realizes. “Then I look forward to working with you, Nino,” Jun tells him with an incline of his head, “and please keep me and Sho-kun in your favor.”  
  
That’s something Sakurai never said to him. Jun looks like he knows, if that amusement on his face means anything.  
  
“Likewise, Ambassador,” Nino says, but he keeps his gaze locked on to Sakurai’s.  
  
It only takes a moment before Jun’s chuckles fill the room.  
  
\--  
  
Their departure from the space station happens without any incidents. Jun insisted that they leave at the same time as most of the passenger shuttles so as not to attract attention that could cause potential delay. Once they’re in hyperspace and everything has settled in (including Nino’s belongings in his new accommodations), Nino leaves his quarters and tours the ship to familiarize himself.  
  
It’s a standard-sized craft of the traditional Union design (official name _Masquerade_ ) with Aiba Masaki as the pilot, his hands positioned carefully on the controls as a navigator informs him of star chart readouts and solar storm predictions. Aiba did not look like it in the space station, even less so in their shared quarters from a few cycles ago, but seeing him in action, on his turf, Nino is convinced that Jun is surrounded by capable people.  
  
Nino wonders if he will become one of them.  
  
He leaves the cockpit then, not wanting to take Aiba’s attention away. His Union-issued slippers make no sound as he walks the corridors. It’s exactly how he prefers, being able to have a look around with no one paying him any mind. Everybody has their own duties on the ship, but Nino’s are to come later when they reach Ilari, which is not in four cycles at their present speed.  
  
Jun suggested that Nino should reacquaint himself with Ilarian, a little review of sorts to prepare for their first stop. Jun also offered the help of his secretary, but Nino immediately turned it down. Much as he likes annoying Sakurai, he wants to save it for later since they have the rest of the diplomatic trip to look forward to.  
  
Jun's knowing smile that followed his refusal was something he would never forget.  
  
Nino is not looking forward to reading an Ilarian phrasebook so soon after the hyperspace jump, so in the meantime, he strolls around the ship, offering acknowledging nods to his crewmates, trying to commit their faces to memory. The last time he was in a spacecraft like this, he couldn’t remember any of the people he was with.  
  
But times were different then. He’s here now. It’s becoming a routine lately, that he has to remind himself where he is. Being far from Earth makes him remember.  
  
He reaches the engineering level despite not being aware of it, and he only notices when he sees a massive coolant tank in front of him. Spacecraft engineers shuffle about, some wearing jumpsuits that are greasier than the others’, carrying tools that clink noisily as the engineers move hurriedly.  
  
“Do you need something?” a voice from above says, and Nino looks up, finding a man who’s wearing goggles hanging out from an opened tube in the ceiling. He must be suspended by an intricate contraption from the inside.  
  
It’s an odd place to hold conversation, but Nino explains, “I was just looking around.”  
  
“Oh. I thought we’re due for inspection.” The man removes the goggles, blinking repeatedly for a few seconds. “Anything that interested you?”  
  
Nino smiles up at him. “I’ve never met someone who’s hanging out of a tube before.”  
  
“I’d come down, but I’m still fixing the wiring of the compressor. I’m Ohno.”  
  
“Nino. I’m a translator.”  
  
Ohno nods at him, offering nothing else. Nino supposes he’s not much of the talking type. Ohno seems like he’d prefer spending innumerable cycles inside a tube.  
  
“Are the replicators also under engineering, Ohno-san?”  
  
That gets the guy to frown. “Yeah. What about them? Yours broke?”  
  
Nino shakes his head. His room has its own replicator given the nature of his job, but his is the same as all replicators found in the ship. “Nothing of the sort. But can you fix the miso soup programming? It doesn’t taste much like miso soup.”  
  
Ohno scratches the tip of his nose with his dirty glove, leaving a dark stain. He doesn’t seem to notice or mind. “I’ll look into it, but I can’t make any promises.” He puts his goggles back on. “The replicators here are the programmed like the space station’s, and I’ve been out of Earth long enough that I don’t know what real miso tastes like anymore.”  
  
That’s the problem with being in space, Nino figures. You forget things as your body learns to adjust. Right now he’s trying to get accustomed to the negligible difference in the artificial gravity, and soon, he’s bound to forget how Earth’s gravity feels.  
  
“I appreciate it,” Nino says, bowing a little in thanks. “I’m keeping you.”  
  
Ohno only crawls back inside the tube without another word, his boots disappearing in the dark as he moves away, further up to who knows where. Nino didn’t exactly bother familiarizing himself with the specifics of their transport craft. The less he knows, the better. He can save space for language interpretation.  
  
Nino leaves engineering then, finding nothing else of interest, and eventually he reaches the observation deck. He takes a seat on the bench in front of the glass panels and pulls his phrasebook out. Despite knowing that there are holorecords complete with simulations that can help him practice better, Nino still chooses a hard copy. With a book, he can pretend he didn’t go off-planet.  
  
Minutes pass and he has lost track of time when he hears footsteps.  
  
“I prefer books too,” Jun says, and Nino looks up, finding him standing by the entrance, hands clasped behind him. “Mind if I join you?”  
  
“Not at all.” Nino scoots a little to the side to make room for him. “You brought books here?”  
  
Jun takes a seat slowly but gracefully, in the way people of authority and power do. “Sho-kun packed them for me. He is yet to grant me access to them though.”  
  
“Your secretary withholds your...pleasure?” Nino asks, and Jun laughs at his word choice.  
  
“He’d rather have me look at drafts of treaties and review cultural norms so as not to offend the Ilarians and lead them to a misunderstanding,” Jun explains. “Of the two of us, I think he’d make a better ambassador.”  
  
“But the Union wants your smile,” Nino says, something that makes Jun snort a little in laughter. “Not Sakurai Sho’s perpetual grimace.”  
  
“Just because he doesn’t smile in front of you doesn’t mean he can’t do it,” Jun informs him. “We once experienced a cultural misunderstanding regarding smiles. I think he never forgot.”  
  
“There’s a planet out there that considers human smiles as taboo?” Nino asks, incredulous.  
  
Jun hums. “You’d find that there are far weirder things in the universe.”  
  
Nino has no doubts about that. The more he gets to know about space, the more he believes he doesn’t know anything at all. “In your readings so far, am I at least allowed to breathe in front of the Ilarians?” It earns him another one of Jun’s chuckles. “Can’t have them offended and refuse the treaty. We’re not traveling this far for nothing, Jun-kun.”  
  
“On that, I agree,” Jun says. He seems more relaxed now, despite a security camera filming them. Jun is the highest authority in this ship, and Nino doubts anyone would reprimand him for being more at ease.  
  
Anyone except Sakurai, maybe.  
  
“I am yet to look into their ways,” is Jun’s answer to his earlier question. “Being a humanoid species, they have their similarities with our culture. But on top of the things I am supposed to negotiate…”  
  
Nino clicks his tongue, snapping his phrasebook shut. “If you’re going to ask me to read them, I’ll say yes, but I’ll have you know, I’m not promising I can finish it. Your assistant seems like the type who looks into stuff thoroughly, and once he knows I’m volunteering, he’s definitely going to double the readings.” He looks at Jun. “He doesn’t like me very much. You’re aware of that yourself.”  
  
“And yet he doesn’t make you uncomfortable,” Jun states. It’s an accurate observation.  
  
“I see things like that as a challenge,” Nino explains with a minimal shrug of his shoulders. Sakurai Sho and his unmasked dislike for Nino is just another. It’s what survivors do, and that’s what he was even before he became a translator.  
  
He hasn’t been anything else since.  
  
“Then you understand that his reservations towards you are caused by him being very much against hiring another translator,” Jun tells him.  
  
“Not me? Not against hiring me? You’re sure?” With the growing rivalry between him and Sakurai, Nino sometimes believes it’s him.  
  
Jun shakes his head. “You were the strongest candidate, Nino, but no. Sho-kun was against my decision to have another because he believes he can do it all on his own. He can, by the way. I know he can.”  
  
“Then why hire me? You never even bothered to personally interview me.” It was the odd thing about the job. He expected to undergo plenty of interviews and be a part of a tedious selection process, only to be rejected, but they all never took place. Instead he was summoned to the nearest spaceport where a private shuttle had been waiting to bring him to the space station.  
  
“I rely on Sho-kun for pretty much everything,” Jun admits. “Personally, I think he has the more difficult job. I know I’m not easy to work for, which you’ll discover soon. I hired you because I think I can use a third brain in this venture. The Delta Quadrant is different, farther than any place I’ve visited.”  
  
Jun pauses, and Nino waits. Then Jun averts his gaze to the glass panel overlooking the stars. “I’ve never been there.”  
  
Nino’s body stills, breath hitching for a moment. He had a feeling from the moment he received the confirmation mail, but he brushed it aside. He hadn’t been overthinking or overreacting then.  
  
In the silence between them, he can almost hear all of it again: crackling fire, a barrage of heavy footsteps, distant, almost muffled screams, a resonating declaration followed by chaos.  
  
“How much do you know?” he asks slowly, quietly so the cameras can’t pick it up.  
  
“Just enough.” Jun bows a little. “My apologies. Being an ambassador, I have access to such. I personally pick the members of my emissary and there are things I have to find out for myself.”  
  
Nino takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, trying to remember Earth. Blue, green, brown. Waves crashing against the shore. Leaves rustling as the wind blows. The smell of the ground after the rain. The clouds in the sky. The booming rumble of thunder after lightning has split the sky in half.  
  
Blue, green, brown.  
  
He exhales. “Does anyone else know?”  
  
Jun shakes his head. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”  
  
Nino nods. His voice sounds detached when he uses it again. “But that’s why you hired me? Because I’ve been there?”  
  
Jun considers his question for a few seconds. “Yes and no. Yes, because you’ve been there, but now that we’ll be there in a matter of hours, it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? But yes, I admit that information had been the deciding factor, and for that I apologize.”  
  
“No, don’t,” Nino says, shaking his head. It’s nobody’s fault anymore. He applied for the job knowing full well that part of his past isn’t exactly inaccessible. That piece of his history is open to anyone who’s high up in the Union, and Jun simply happened to be one of those people. Nino doesn’t blame him. “Don’t apologize. I made the decision on my own. It’s not like I’m coming back anyway.”  
  
There’s nothing to go back to.  
  
“I offer my apologies still.” Jun bows again. “I assure you that no one else knows. Not even Sho-kun.”  
  
Nino appreciates that. He’s had enough of those questions in his youth.  
  
“Are you still volunteering?” Jun asks after a moment, when silence has stretched long enough and Nino feels his heart rate slowly revert back to normal.  
  
He manages to smile, frail but not forced. “Tell your secretary to send those readings to me.”  
  
“I’ll even tell him to limit the readings, how’s that?” Jun offers with a grin.  
  
“Fine with me, Ambassador. But don’t expect too much.”  
  
From his periphery he sees Jun smile broaden. “Just have a look into the cultural taboos. In my experience, that’s often the cause for offense and that’s something we have to avoid no matter what.”  
  
Nino faces the man beside him. Jun is younger, but he knows exactly what he wants. If he ever pursues politics, he is the kind of politician Nino can believe in. He’s exacting, but he doesn’t pressure people who work for him unless necessary. He didn’t have to apologize earlier, but he did, feeling like he overstepped his boundaries even though it is mandatory to do a thorough background check.  
  
Somehow, Nino doesn’t want to disappoint him.  
  
He gives Jun his trademark salute for the first time, knowing it won’t be the last.  
  
“Leave it to me, Jun-kun.”  
  
\--  
  
The landing party of the Ilarian diplomatic mission consists of Jun, Sakurai, two of Jun’s bodyguards named Nagase and Matsuoka, and Nino. As Nino fastens his seatbelt in the transport shuttle headed to the planet, Sakurai reminds him that he is not to speak unless he’s spoken to.  
  
Nino flashes Sakurai a sweet smile. “Are you worrying about me now, Sakurai-san?”  
  
Despite Jun’s face being half-hidden by a sleeping mask as he attempts to get even a few precious minutes of a nap, Nino doesn’t miss his grin.  
  
“I’m merely ensuring that inconveniences won’t happen,” Sakurai says, looking unimpressed at Nino’s attempts to rile him up. Sakurai takes the seat across from him, fastening his own seatbelt.  
  
Aiba announces via the comms that they’ll be dropped off at the meeting point in four minutes, and Nino uses that time to survey the Ilarian sky.  
  
Ilari has two moons and two suns. It would have made a brighter morning than any of those Nino has seen on Earth, but one of Ilari’s suns is dying and that gives the planet its characteristic orange atmosphere, like a prolonged sunset.  
  
“What happens when their sun dies?” Nino asks. Ilari is four times bigger than Earth, and the Union cannot possibly offer refuge to their people should it be necessary.  
  
It’s Sakurai who answers his question. “The predicted supernova is still a few million years in the future. It’s dying, but it’s not happening any time soon. When we made first contact with Ilari, their sun was already in the first stage of collapse.”  
  
Of course he knows that. He must have read every Ilarian reference material before sending them to Nino. “So it’s a problem a million years into the future, huh,” Nino murmurs. He supposes allies in case war happens is a more pressing concern for the Union than a certain fate in a million years. “And therefore not something we should trouble ourselves with.”  
  
If there’s one thing Nino knows about the Union, it’s that its method of governance has never changed in the years since its formation. They did nothing then. They would choose to do the same, even if they continue to exist a million years from now.  
  
Across from him, Sakurai doesn’t say a word, but Nino can feel his eyes watching him.  
  
The remaining three minutes pass in silence, and when Aiba announces that they’re at the meetup site, Jun removes his sleeping mask and tosses it in Sakurai’s waiting hands.  
  
Nino sees Jun cracking his neck joints, and soon, Jun is letting out deep breaths, lips puckered as air passes between them. He does it repeatedly, even letting out hushing noises, his chest rising and falling accordingly.  
  
“It’s his routine,” Sakurai says as he checks if his uniform is spotless despite knowing that it is. “You’d find that he gets nervous often.”  
  
“But he can’t show that,” Nino says, unable to suppress a smile when Jun squares his shoulders and tilts his head at them, gesturing for them to follow as Aiba counts down to opening the hatch.  
  
“Only before and never during,” Sakurai agrees as they take their places on either side of Jun.  
  
“You’ve got this,” Nino whispers when he’s close enough, and Jun nods in thanks.  
  
The hydraulics roar, and opening the hatch reveals the Ilarian Council consisting of elders. The Ilarians are not identifiable with gender, and Nino spent the day before practicing pronouns in his head in case they talk to him. On Earth, the very few Ilarians Nino met were bar patrons, and there, they had something else in mind compared to an elderly assembly with intentions to negotiate for peace.  
  
How far you’ve come, Nino tells himself. From Ilarian one-night stands to a diplomatic visit to the planet itself.  
  
As soon as they’re far enough, Nino hears the transport shuttle taking off. It was Aiba’s job to take them to the planet surface, and he will only come back once Jun calls for him. If negotiations go smoothly, that is expected in a few days.  
  
Jun presses his fingers to his mouth before touching the corner of his jaw—the Ilarian gesture of greeting. They all imitate it, and soon, the elders before them return the gesture.  
  
“The Union extends its greetings and gratitude for the welcome,” Jun says, in a voice so firm and sure that Nino thinks he must’ve imagined Jun’s moment in the shuttle earlier. “I’m the Earth Ambassador Matsumoto, and we come in peace.”  
  
Far to Nino’s left, Sakurai flawlessly translates the greeting.  
  
The elder at the center, clad in cream-colored robes, zir elaborate headdress adorned with crystals gleaming under the sunlight, is the one who speaks. “ _We hope that your journey hasn’t been too taxing. Ilari welcomes you._ ”  
  
As soon as ze turns around and starts walking, Nino takes one deep breath.  
  
Jun and the others follow zir footsteps, and once he takes the step to do the same, he decides.  
  
He’s going to put aside any reservations he has for Sakurai Sho if it means that they can secure the allegiance of these people. Seeing Jun keeping his head high and posture perfect, Nino doesn’t want to let him down. He’s here as a secondary translator, yes, but whatever Jun asks for, he’ll do it without hesitation from now on. Jun’s dedication to his duty is something Nino admires as early as now, and he’s certain that as the negotiations proceed, he’s going to look up to Jun even more.  
  
Younger than he is and yet so determined and passionate. Nino wishes the Union had more people like him. Maybe things would have been different.  
  
As they enter the halls of an edifice made entirely of crystal, Nino accepts that this is now his job and promises to do better.  
  
\--  
  
The negotiations went faster than Nino expected. Sakurai’s only comment was that this achievement had been made possible by the success of the first contact with Ilarians, which they had nothing to do with. It could be a passing statement regarding Nino’s supposed ignorance (it’s quite evident that Sakurai sees him as such) when it came to these things.  
  
Ignorance, however, doesn’t often follow the old saying.  
  
Nino’s eyes widen when his brain catches up with what the elder just told them and he darts an uncertain glance at Sakurai, who looks like he can’t say the words.  
  
Jun is waiting, head tilted expectantly in Sakurai’s direction, but Sakurai doesn’t translate. He’s more shocked than what Nino estimated.  
  
Nino clears his throat and leans closer to Jun. “Ze says it’s part of their festivities.”  
  
Jun turns to him. “What is? What are they asking for?”  
  
“As a gesture of goodwill and to celebrate the success of the negotiations,” Nino begins, not quite believing what he’s about to say, “they’re asking for our party’s representatives to step forward.”  
  
“Representatives for what?” Jun asks, voice and face betraying nothing, but Nino has studied him in the past three days. Jun is confused, and he would frown if he didn’t have to plaster on a smile.  
  
Nino glances at Sakurai, asking with his eyes if he wants to translate that bit.  
  
Sakurai’s face is blank.  
  
Nino takes it as a no. “I’m not very sure, Ambassador, but I think they’re asking for representatives for...a union of sorts.”  
  
“Marriage,” Sakurai suddenly says beside Jun, whose moment of incredulity only lasts for a second before he blinks it away. Nino’s amazed at how good Jun is at keeping his facial expressions innocent. Years of practice, indeed. “I believe they’re asking for our representatives for marriage, Ambassador.”  
  
“Will it be legal?” Jun asks, getting straight to the point. “Will it hold?”  
  
Sakurai looks down for a moment. “With all due respect, sir, if you’re going to offer yourself, that’s not allowed. But yes, according to my readings, it will hold, but only on Ilari. The marriage will only be legal on the planet.”  
  
Jun nods in understanding. “Tell them to wait for a moment while we finalize.”  
  
Sakurai does, speaking in perfect Ilarian as he has regained his voice, and the Ilarians nod.  
  
The festivities have been going on for a day, and now, as the two moons of Ilari rise to claim the skies, it seems that they wish to conclude the celebrations in the traditional way.  
  
Or at least, that’s what Sakurai is telling them as the three of them convene. Jun’s two bodyguards, Nagase and Matsuoka, are at another table, partaking in Ilarian ale. They’re seated right at the only entrance and exit of the hall, observing every single individual who goes in and out of the room.  
  
Only the three of them—him, Jun, and Sho—are at the high table with the elders, an honor that they all worked hard for over the past three days.  
  
“This is traditional for them? Marrying off folks?” Nino clarifies, and it earns him Sakurai’s eyes narrowing. “I didn’t read this part.”  
  
“It is a gesture of goodwill for them that they are sending off those married under Ilarian law to venture out into space once more. It’s an uncommon practice nowadays, but not unheard of. Especially since these are the elders we’re dealing with,” Sakurai explains.  
  
“And I’m not allowed to take part because?” Jun asks, giving his secretary a curious look.  
  
“Because they consider you an elder, therefore someone who can officiate an Ilarian marriage should you wish,” Sakurai tells him.  
  
Jun looks like he doesn’t accept it. “Yet I can’t officiate my own marriage?”  
  
“That is against their laws. Technically, sir, you’ve only been considered an Ilarian elder since the treaty was signed. Your first act as elder cannot be to form a union with anyone else. They would think you are taking advantage of your power if you do that. In any case, they show respect by deferring power to someone they consider as their equal. The fact that you defer this to them means you see them as an equal,” Sakurai informs him.  
  
Nino doesn’t like where this is going. And yet, what better way to show that Earth now trusts Ilari? He and Jun exchange one look, and Nino’s certain what Jun is doing now is apologizing and asking for permission.  
  
Nino allows three seconds to pass fully before he nods slowly. The Ilarians are acting friendly with them after the treaty was secured, but they are crafty enough to not simply believe Jun’s words. They require proof, an assurance of Jun’s sincere intentions, and that’s something all three of them understand clearly.  
  
“That leaves us no choice then,” Jun says. Then he turns to Sakurai and gives him a meaningful look. Sakurai’s eyes widen, then they flit to Nino’s face. He’s internally panicking, that much is obvious.  
  
“There’s no other choice, you said it yourself, Sho-kun,” Jun says decisively. “Now I would gladly marry either you or Nino just to get this over with and not cause offense, but that’s not allowed, you said. The longer we talk, the longer they wait. And I will not have the treaty endangered.”  
  
“With all due respect, Ambassador, but the bodyguards…” Sakurai trails off, eyes searching for them across the hall.  
  
“We are making them wait,” Jun says sternly despite his friendly expression. He uttered each syllable pointedly, and true enough, Nino sees the elders looking expectantly at them. Jun’s smile doesn’t waver, but he can’t keep this on for long.  
  
Nino looks at Sakurai, who meets his eyes in disbelief. “I don’t like this either, but do we really have a choice?”  
  
“No,” Sakurai relents. “My apologies for being juvenile, Ambassador.”  
  
Jun simply inclines his head. “Tell them we are ready.”  
  
Sakurai does, and as soon as the last word leaves his mouth, he stands at the same time as Nino and they step forward to approach the center. Around them, the Ilarians are celebrating by dancing as food continues to be brought in. The plates of local produce don’t look enticing at all as Nino stands beside Sakurai Sho.  
  
“I don’t suppose you’ve looked into Ilarian annulment procedures?” he asks.  
  
“I will once we return to the ship,” Sakurai tells him with conviction.  
  
“I hope it’s within Jun-kun’s powers to annul,” he whispers.  
  
Sakurai straightens his posture. “For the first time, Ninomiya, we are in agreement.”  
  
Nino hardly registers the words as the elder begins officiating. When he sneaks a glance at Jun, he still has the same expression on his face, but his eyes…  
  
Nino would roll his eyes if he could. Jun’s eyes are _sparkling_.  
  
“The Ambassador is enjoying this too much, I believe,” he says at the corner of his mouth.  
  
“Terribly,” Sakurai agrees, and Nino sees him looking at Jun as well, possibly disapproving.  
  
“They’re not going to ask us to kiss, right? In the human way, I mean,” Nino clarifies. The elder now has zir hands on his and Sakurai’s shoulder, and Nino’s suddenly grateful he can’t actually understand the words ze’s uttering. They’re thankfully those deep Ilarian words no bar on Earth could’ve taught him. Had he been fluent, it would make the experience more mortifying.  
  
“That is not part of their culture,” Sakurai says, his relief unmistakable.  
  
Nino can’t blame him. This is the first time he and Sakurai are in accordance with one another, and coincidence or not, it happens on the day of their marriage on a planet that is now an official member of the Union.  
  
Jun was right. There are far weirder things in the universe.  
  
“Wait,” Nino says, remembering something. “Ilari is now a member of the Union.”  
  
Beside him, Sakurai’s face twitches. He would’ve sighed if he could. “Yes, Ninomiya,” he says, almost sarcastically. “That’s what we worked hard for in the past three days.”  
  
Nino shuts his eyes in combined resignation and hatred for what he is enduring.  
  
When he opens them again, he meets Jun’s gaze, and he’s sure that’s not Jun’s normal, rehearsed smile that he’s seeing. He’s showing too much teeth and there are lines surrounding his eyes.  
  
Even without being acquainted with Jun for long, Nino knows that is Jun’s grin of genuine delight.  
  
“We’re getting married on a Union-allied planet,” Nino says slowly, loathing every word he’s uttering. “Do you understand, Sakurai? We. Are. Getting. Married. On. A. Union. -allied. Planet.”  
  
That means their marriage would be recognized by the Union if they are informed of it. Whatever happens on a Union-allied planet is honored on all planets that are part of the Union. And that includes Earth.  
  
Nino honestly didn’t expect his translator job would also come with a husband.  
  
It takes a beat for Sakurai to answer, but when he does, his voice is grave. “The Union better not be informed of this.”  
  
Nino tilts his head in Jun’s direction. He returns Jun’s happy smile with his most sarcastic one, but not too sarcastic that it would alert the Ilarians that they’re not entirely agreeable to this arrangement. “Tell that to our boss. He’s going to report about this, isn’t he?”  
  
“I will request that he omit this part once he communicates with the High Council,” Sakurai promises. Whether he’s vowing to himself or to Nino, Nino doesn’t know. He can’t find it in him to care much, either. Not when he’s getting hitched to the man who cannot stand him.  
  
The elder before them clasps both of zis hands and bows so low, zis body is curved ninety degrees. Sakurai tilts his head at him in a wordless order that they imitate it together.  
  
Nino does, and he says out of the corner of his lips, “What’s happening now?”  
  
“We are accepting the marriage,” Sakurai tells him. “As soon as we straighten up, we’re married.”  
  
Fuck that, Nino thinks.  
  
Nino counts the seconds they spend bowing low, wishing for it to last longer. Maybe he could fake an accident, an exaggeration of his unsteady gait, a stumble, _anything_. But then the elder moves back to zis original position, and Nino knows they ought to do that as well.  
  
When he does, the elder is giving him a look that he doesn’t understand. Nino plasters on his most charming smile and turns to Sakurai, who has his fist offered in his direction.  
  
Nino looks at him questioningly. Are they going to janken? What the fuck is happening?  
  
“Make a fist and stretch your hand,” Sakurai says, lips moving so little he could pass for a ventriloquist.  
  
Nino obeys, and he tries not to look too stupefied when Sakurai rubs the whites of their wrists together.  
  
Around them, Ilari bursts into a wild, deafening cheer.  
  
“What did we just do?” Nino asks, loud now so Sakurai can hear it amidst the celebrations. The Ilarians are certainly pleased with what came about, and Nino wishes he could share their happiness.  
  
Sakurai’s cheeks are reddening. It’s the first time Nino has seen it, and he suppresses the urge to grin by biting his lower lip.  
  
“That...was an equivalent of a kiss after a marriage.” Sakurai looks pained as he says it.  
  
“Ilarians kiss by brushing their shoulders,” Nino says, recalling his flings on Earth.  
  
“During the sex act, yes,” Sakurai tells him. Sakurai’s gaze is fixed on Jun, like he’s questioning why he works for someone like him. Nino can sympathize; Jun is yet to lose his smirk. “But for relationships that are expected to last longer, that’s how they kiss. It’s...also a symbol of fidelity.”  
  
Nino shuts his eyes briefly, wishing he could comm Aiba and ask him to take them back to the ship. He and Sakurai are now walking back to the high table where Jun is. “I’m going to help you to look for annulment procedures, all right? The sooner this is behind us, the better.”  
  
Sakurai only nods because they’re close enough to Jun now. To their shock and confusion, Jun stands as soon as they’re standing right in front their seats.  
  
They both shoot Jun a questioning look, who flashes them his innocent, boyish smile. “Aren’t newlyweds supposed to sit together? Ilari has similarities to our culture, right?”  
  
He doesn’t wait for an answer, instead procures Sakurai’s seat for himself so Nino would have to sit beside—  
  
— _his husband_ , now that he thinks about it.  
  
“If you weren’t the Ambassador, I would’ve stepped on your foot. They won’t see it underneath the table,” Nino says in a rare moment of petulance as he takes his former seat. Sakurai’s in the middle now, looking very uncomfortable.  
  
Nino grabs the goblet of ale in front of him and downs it one go. He’s going to need more of this if he wants to survive the rest of the celebrations.  
  
As soon as his goblet is refilled by an attendant, he drinks it straight down, finding the burning rush of alcohol momentarily soothing.  
  
The return to the ship can’t come fast enough.  
  
\--  
  
Jun, Nino discovers, is actually a little shit.  
  
Forget the way he carried himself during negotiations, his convincing speech in front of the Ilarians, his conviction as they settled the terms, his dedication to securing every part of the treaty.  
  
Before anything else, he is a little shit.  
  
They ended up remaining on Ilari for a day more, all because Jun didn’t want to call for Aiba yet when he could’ve already. Despite Sakurai’s insistence that they’re under a strict schedule, Jun, because he knew the schedule himself, insisted they stay for a day more since negotiations ended early.  
  
“Besides,” Jun told them when it was only the three of them convening in a room, “shouldn’t there be a honeymoon?”  
  
Since they were out of sight already, Nino seized the opportunity. “You’re not cute, Matsumoto.”  
  
To Nino’s surprise, he received no reprimand from Sakurai for saying such a thing.  
  
As expected, Jun only laughed, and it was his high-spirited one.  
  
At least there was one person in this universe who was happy with their marriage.  
  
Upon their return to the ship, Nino immediately demands access to the databases from Jun, who uses his Union-perfected smile on him before acquiescing. Nino would have told Jun what exactly he thought of his attitude towards the situation he was partly to blame for, but Jun already received a four-minute lecture from his personal assistant on the way back, with Nino as the only other witness.  
  
Instead of apologizing, Jun just raised one eyebrow before his lip quirked.  
  
When Sakurai requested that Jun omit the latter part of the celebrations in his report to the Union, he was met with an innocent look and a shoulder shrug. At Sakurai’s pointed glare, Jun stroked his chin in mock thought before saying he’d think about it.  
  
Nino’s a hundred percent positive Jun said that just to be annoying, since the last few days led him to the realization that he and Jun are quite alike in that aspect.  
  
So when Nino finally acquires the access codes to the Union’s database, he immediately gets to work. He returns to his quarters and approaches the provided computer and begins reading up on Ilarian customs, wanting his marriage to be over as soon as possible.  
  
The right corner of his monitor pings with a new message, and his eyes automatically narrow when he reads Sakurai’s name. The last time the man sent him a message, it was a series of hyperlinks to certain online databases detailing known Ilarian cultural taboos. He spent hours reading those, even highlighting a bit of the text, and for what?  
  
He opens the message and sure enough, it’s another hyperlink. No comment, no summary of what it contains. Just a file address. It’s as impersonal as ever, and Nino wonders why he keeps looking for something new to change every time they interact.  
  
Maybe because we’re now married under Ilarian law, he thinks bitterly. There must be something in the ale that he willingly gorged himself into for the past couple of days.  
  
He taps his finger on the screen and a holo of a paper on Ilarian marriage customs appears. His eyes automatically move to the highlighted text, and he half-laughs and half-cheers when he reads what’s written.  
  
Jun can do it. According to what he’s reading, Jun, being considered as an elder, can dissolve any marriage held by another. But then Nino reads the next line and he frowns.  
  
He flicks his finger to the side to open up Sakurai’s message box full of academic readings and taps at the holo icon. He’d rather talk to Sakurai’s face than type up a message.  
  
It takes a few seconds before Sakurai’s round face appears as a holo in front of him, his expression calculating and focused. He seems a little irritated, brows coming together at the sight of Nino.  
  
“Yes?” Sakurai says, sounding like he has no patience or time for this at all.  
  
“This says we can only get the marriage annulled on three accounts,” Nino says, ignoring Sakurai’s annoyance. He can’t afford to be bothered, not when he’s still the guy’s husband. “Adultery, in which the responsible party is to be punished by exile in the Ilarian desert—”  
  
“Insanity, and impotence,” Sakurai finishes.  
  
“None of which are applicable to us,” Nino says through his teeth. “Unless you’re nuts, then I’m pretty sure Jun-kun would gladly exercise his powers…”  
  
Sakurai’s eyebrow quirks up. “And given my place in the peace envoy, if we annul the marriage under that reason, how do you think it would make the Ambassador look?”  
  
Not very good, that’s for certain. Jun has a reputation for personally selecting the people who would work for him, and nobody would believe that Sakurai was insane despite a part of Nino suggesting that he might be. All jokes aside, Nino knows that it won’t work.  
  
“Impotence is also out of the question, Ninomiya,” Sakurai tells him, beating him to the punch. “Since there was no expectation of us procreating when the ceremony was performed,” he pauses and Nino catches him shuddering a little at the thought, “we can’t annul it under that.”  
  
“I’m not going to be exiled in a desert,” Nino snaps. “From what I’ve read, adultery is a major offense to these people and they immediately condemn those who commit it.”  
  
There’s a reason there is a population surge of Ilarians on other planets, especially Earth. Their practices are somewhat provincial, and anyone who has a more liberal mind naturally feels restricted. The idea of casual sex is not something they entertain.  
  
Nino has slept with some of their kind, and those were the ones who left the planet out of fear of being suppressed. Earth, they claimed, has a more open mind, promotes more freedom.  
  
Nino sighs. “Can you at least make sure Jun doesn’t inform the Union about this? At least until...you know.” He waves his hands in the air. “Until we find a way.” Either Sakurai makes him insane or he does it to Sakurai. Whichever comes first.  
  
“He hasn’t informed the Union of it,” Sakurai says confidently. “I never left his side as he gave the report and he didn’t breathe a word. You’d find that the Ambassador’s...teasing nature is often something not to be taken seriously.”  
  
“He has an odd sense of humor, that’s what he has.” Nino slouches in his seat with a tired groan. He gives himself a few seconds to digest everything that occurred in the past week.  
  
Then he puts on his most annoying smirk.  
  
If he can’t annul this marriage, he’s going to give his husband a hard time. If he can’t get out of this, he’s going to try to look at it differently and have a bit of fun. Sakurai’s reactions would be worth it. Nino enjoys seeing him trying hard to suppress his annoyance at Nino’s (and more often, Jun’s) antics.  
  
Sakurai’s frowning at him now, and he seems to brace himself for what Nino has to say.  
  
Nino grins wider. “Well, _husband_ ,” he says, stressing the word and holding back his laughs when Sakurai’s eyes widen, “I hope you don’t expect me to wake you up tomorrow with a plate of handmade breakfast.” He gestures to himself. “You didn’t bag a traditional one here, sorry to say.”  
  
Sakurai’s face contorts to a mixture of anger, repulsion, and shock. It makes Nino hide half of his face at the crook of his elbow.  
  
The holo suddenly ends, and Nino slams his hand down the desk as he lets out a laugh.  
  
Maybe he should start a scoreboard.


	2. Chapter 2

Since Jun wasn’t able to report the interesting bits of the diplomatic visit to the Union, he apparently made up for it by informing certain people of what happened.  
  
Aside from the original party which included Jun’s bodyguards, it seems now that Aiba Masaki is aware of what transpired on the planet, and Nino’s sure no one would’ve told him except Jun.  
  
He confirms it when Aiba slides into the seat beside him in the mess hall, an arm immediately wrapping around his shoulders.  
  
“How’s married life so far, Nino?” Aiba asks, direct as ever.  
  
“Fantastic,” Nino answers sarcastically, but since Aiba is Aiba, he just giggles. “Flourishing. Look at me. My skin is smooth and glowing. I’ve never looked better. Before the year ends I’m going to have glorious babies who can’t smile at all.”  
  
Aiba’s laughing so much he’s actually tearing up. “Oh don’t let Sho-chan hear you. He gave me this really scary look that time I asked him about it.”  
  
Nino’s actually impressed that Aiba went to tease Sakurai about it first, but then again, Aiba seems to have a knack for doing the unexpected. “So now you’re bugging me? Who told you about it anyway?”  
  
Aiba grins, broad and lively. “I’ve been hearing things so I confirmed it with Jun-chan. He also told me to tell you not to go anywhere near security. He said he’s pretty sure Nagase-kun and Matsu-nii already talked about it to certain people. You know how fast word here travels. It’s such a small ship!”  
  
Great, Nino thinks with a pained groan. Now nearly everyone in Jun’s peace envoy knows he’s married to Sakurai. The next few months should be eventful.  
  
“If I get one question about whether I’m a Sakurai now or if that uptight secretary is now a Ninomiya, send my apologies to Jun-kun because I’m going to airlock whoever it is that asks,” Nino says. “It’s going to be worth it.”  
  
“Sho-chan sure doesn’t look like a Ninomiya. But hey, you’re not a Sakurai then?” Aiba asks innocently, but there is this glint in his eyes and Nino reaches out to flick his forehead.  
  
Aiba only laughs more as he strokes the reddening skin.  
  
“Airlock, I’m telling you. Airlock,” Nino threatens, his fork hitting his plate with a decisive clink.  
  
Aiba just keeps smiling. “You can’t airlock me,” he says with confidence, huffs of laughter still escaping his mouth. “I know this ship better than you do, Nino. You have to come up with a bigger threat if you want to scare me. But really, no matter what you try, I’m not going to be scared. You’re not Jun-chan.”  
  
Nino had a feeling Aiba would say something like that. He looks at the pilot, studying his face. “You talked to Sakurai first before you came to bug me, right?”  
  
Aiba hums as a yes, his mouth full of the chicken he replicated earlier.  
  
“How did my husband take that aside from giving you his meanest glare?”  
  
That gets Aiba to spit out bits of chicken, eyes watery as he coughs and reaches for the nearest glass of water. Nino counts it as a victory.  
  
When Aiba recovers, he’s chuckling. “Is that how you refer to him now?”  
  
“I wouldn’t be lying, would I? I even said it to his face,” Nino brags, and Aiba’s clapping his hands. He looks so amused and so proud on Nino’s behalf. “I’ll have you know he immediately ended the holo when I said that.”  
  
“You’re certainly taking it better than he is then,” Aiba says, shaking his head in delight.  
  
Nino’s reply to that is cut short when the intercom in the cafeteria beeps, a female voice calling Aiba to the bridge.  
  
“Ah crap, that’s definitely the solar storm problem,” Aiba says, hastily wiping his hands and mouth with a napkin. “Most annoying things in the universe, if you ask me. Say, can you bring my tray when you return yours? I got to go.”  
  
Nino shoos him away. “Go and save us lesser mortals, Aiba-shi.”  
  
Aiba flashes him a big smile and pats his shoulder twice, a little forceful that it makes Nino wince. Aiba stands and leaves, jogging a little to get to the bridge faster. Nino watches his figure scurry away until he turns the corner and finally disappears.  
  
He turns back to his replicated chicken katsu and stares at it for a moment before finally deciding he can’t finish it. Not when he can only taste the oil and the bread crumbs.  
  
“Is this seat taken?”  
  
He looks up, seeing Ohno’s curious face, his hands carrying a tray.  
  
Just in time. Nino smiles and shakes his head. As soon as Ohno takes a seat in front of him, he points to his katsu. “This tastes nothing like chicken katsu, engineer.”  
  
Ohno only eyes it for a short moment. “I never replicate anything fried because they’re no good.”  
  
“You’re telling me this now?” Nino asks, unamused.  
  
Ohno shrugs. “You had to find out for yourself.” Then he seems to remember something, because the next thing he does is to offer his palm to Nino. Nino frowns.  
  
“Congratulations,” Ohno says, the corner of his lips twitching. “I heard that you’re a Sakurai now.”  
  
Nino gives him a glare and squeezes his hand with enough force that it makes Ohno wince and try to extract himself, but Nino doesn’t let go until he’s sure he’s nearly crushing Ohno’s hand in his grip.  
  
“Is that the talk on the engineering level? Thanks.” He grabs his tray (and Aiba’s too) and moves to leave. “And no, I think he’s the one who’s now a Ninomiya. You’ve been misinformed.”  
  
Ohno’s still massaging his hand when he frowns at Nino. “Oh? That’s strange. I asked Sho-kun and he said you’re the one taking his family name.”  
  
Nino’s jaw drops.  
  
Ohno’s smiling now.  
  
Nino spins on his heel without another word, crosses to the other side in three strides to dispose of their trays, and leaves the mess hall in search for Jun’s secretary.  
  
That asshole.  
  
\--  
  
The next five days on the ship are pretty eventful for Nino. He keeps receiving congratulations left and right, some even offering to throw a party for him (and his husband, of course), and some even asking to be groomsmen should they choose to have a formal ceremony on Earth.  
  
Nino shudders at the mere thought of it.  
  
To add to his annoyance, he never finds the time to corner Sakurai for what he told Ohno. The secretary sticks with his boss the entire time, and Jun, naturally, has other things to worry about than the marriage blues of his translators. The only relief in these days is that Nino knows that Sakurai is receiving similar attention. Despite being around his boss nearly every hour of the day and night cycles, Nino is positive Jun is firing the jokes every time he has the chance.  
  
Some days later sees them preparing for the rendezvous with the Zuran royal vessel inside Jun's private office. The original away team is gathered (him, Jun, Sakurai, and Jun’s two bodyguards, Nagase and Matsuoka), but Aiba is also present on Jun’s insistence that he must be informed of the schedule.  
  
Nino believes Jun only wants an ally in case he cracks a joke.  
  
When he sneaks a glance at Sakurai, he reckons Sakurai believes the same.  
  
They both keep giving Jun distrustful looks every time he pauses, but Jun isn’t the slightest bit distracted. He outlines every part of the mission to all of them in a concise manner, expressing what he wants and what he expects from all of them.  
  
Sakurai supplements his explanations every now and then, and together they seem to form an efficient duo, capable of accomplishing anything the Union would ask of them. Jun relies on his secretary, yes, but he doesn’t rely on him for everything, contrary to what he made Nino believe on the observation deck. Jun knows what he wants, but his methods are too direct sometimes.  
  
That’s what Sakurai is for; he’s the one who gives Jun suggestions, a different approach but with similar results. Their dynamic is interesting to observe when they’re both focused on the task, because despite being younger than him, it is clear that Sakurai respects Jun. Sakurai doesn’t presume—he lets Jun decide on what to do.  
  
“Do you have any questions?” Jun asks patiently. His distinct features give him an expressive face, and it only took Nino a few days in his company to learn how to read him accurately.  
  
They all shake their heads, and Jun lets out a sigh of relief. “It may seem too much—”  
  
“With all due respect, Ambassador, but nothing is easily achievable with you and we’re used to that,” Nagase says, cutting him off.  
  
Jun cracks a smile at that, bright and amused. “And yet you’re all still here, working for me.”  
  
“That’s because the salary is high,” Aiba jokingly remarks, and it earns a laugh from all of them. Even Sakurai isn’t able to stifle a chuckle, much to Nino’s astonishment.  
  
He can laugh. Nino takes a moment to wrap his head around that fact. He _can_ laugh.  
  
When Nino directs his gaze back at Jun, he finds Jun looking right at him.  
  
Then Jun’s face breaks into a knowing smile. Nino waits for him to say something, dares Jun with his eyes even, but instead Jun says, “Then I expect to see you earn that salary, Masaki. Keep up the good work along with everybody else.”  
  
They all nod at that, and Jun waves his hands. “Dismissed. We’ll be in contact with the Zuran monarch in two and a half hours, and I’ll see you all on the bridge by then.”  
  
Nino moves to leave, but Jun stops him with a raised hand. “How’s your Zuran?”  
  
Nino waits until it’s only the three of them remaining in Jun’s office. “Fine.”  
  
“He’s fluent,” Sakurai says, and when Jun raises an eyebrow for confirmation, Nino inclines his head in affirmation.  
  
Jun takes a deep breath, nods to himself. “Very well. Nino, you’ll be my primary translator this time.”  
  
Nino’s eyes go wide, and he’s certain his shock is also mirrored on Sakurai’s face.  
  
“Jun-kun...I—”  
  
“You’re here to translate for me, yes?” Jun asks, using his ‘I’m asking you’ voice that Nino only heard once, back when a crewman failed to report to him on time. Nino ended up comforting that kid in the mess hall.  
  
“Yes,” Nino answers. He looks at Sakurai, his round face still in shock. “But isn’t he—”  
  
“Sho-kun can use a break,” Jun says, cutting him off immediately. Jun turns to look at his secretary. “You did well on Ilari. I couldn’t have negotiated that without you.” Jun’s attention shifts back to Nino. “Show me that I hired you for this. That I chose you for no other reason than this.”  
  
Nino shuts his eyes. No other reason, he said. Perhaps he could believe in it: he’s here to help Jun out to the best of his ability. He’s not coming back.  
  
He repeats it in his head. He’s not here to go back. There’s nowhere to go back to. He can only move forward. He’s not coming back.  
  
It takes him a few beats, but then he stands and bows, lowering half of his body. “I am grateful for the privilege, Ambassador, and I will try not to disappoint.”  
  
“You’ll do more than try,” Jun tells him.  
  
Nino’s feeling it now. Jun is a difficult man to work for, but he doesn’t push his people unnecessarily.  
  
Nino needs this.  
  
He straightens up and meets Jun’s eyes with determination. “I will not disappoint.”  
  
Jun’s lips quirk up. “I’ll see you on the bridge in two hours and a half.”  
  
Nino shoots one look at Sakurai, finding his face impassive.  
  
Considering himself dismissed, he takes his leave.  
  
\--  
  
Nino hasn’t been nervous for far too long. Nerves simply don’t claim him as often as he would’ve expected. They used to be an extension of him. Before his first space travel, he’d been bullied. Children, he found out, could be crueler than any of the monsters he feared lived under his bed. Every time he’d see those mean boys who did nothing but taunt, laugh, and mock him, he’d get nervous—heart hammering, palms sweating, knees shaking. He’d quake where he stood. Every part of him wanted to bolt.  
  
But when he went back to Earth after, it was as if he had completely lost the ability to feel that way.  
  
Standing on the bridge and watching their ship trajectory get closer to the meetup point in the navigation screens, he can feel tiny tendrils that creep up his fingers, making them twitch at his sides. Nerves, perhaps. He can’t tell. He isn’t cold. The thermal regulator is functioning adequately, and the temperature is at what humans would consider cool.  
  
He’s warm and yet parts of him twitch in place. He doesn’t understand.  
  
Perhaps it was one of those things taken away from me, he thinks. Aside from my youth. Odd that they’re coming back now, if they’re what I think they are.  
  
Aiba announces via the comms that they are fifteen minutes away from the rendezvous site. Nino blinks at the navigation screen where the ship is represented as a blinking dot moving closer to a bigger dot. Target destination. People he ought to speak to and hold his head high. Fifteen minutes away.  
  
His fingers twitch once more. Involuntarily. He’s glad nobody can see it.  
  
When Jun enters the bridge, Nino only notices because the officers on duty stand at attention. Behind Jun stands Sakurai, who doesn’t meet Nino’s eyes. He seems fixated on a corner of the viewscreens.  
  
“At ease,” Jun says, and the bridge crew resume their tasks.  
  
Nino makes his way to them. He stands on Jun’s left this time, only a couple of centimeters back. He ought to get used to this. He will be whispering in Jun’s ear for as long as this diplomatic visit lasts.  
  
“Distance to the royal vessel?” Jun asks, his posture impeccably straight. Nino didn’t see him calm himself like he did on the shuttle. He must’ve done that before he appeared on the bridge.  
  
“Ten minutes, Ambassador,” comes Aiba’s reply.  
  
Jun simply nods. He stalks towards the viewscreens, watching the stars leave infinite trails of white and blue as they continue their travel to hyperspace. Nino keeps a two-step distance, and when he checks, he sees that Sakurai is the same.  
  
“I never understood hyperspace,” Jun tells them, or anyone who’s listening, which is everyone. Nino can’t tell who it is that he’s addressing. He’s using his Ambassador voice, the one that beckons people to pay attention. “The science of it, I mean. One minute you’re home, the next, you’re not. And yet it doesn’t take us the same amount of time to reach a place. You never end up in the same place either despite entering the same coordinates. Always a few angles away from your last position. But who’s to notice, right?”  
  
“Hyperspace has its limits,” Sakurai says, as if he’s used to Jun’s musings. He must be, now that Nino considers it. “Just like everything else.”  
  
“I wanted to be an engineer,” Jun says, laughing a little. He’s speaking quietly now, addressing only the two of them beside him. There’s enough noise from the equipment to mask what Jun is saying. “I wanted to understand these lines when I first saw them.” His hand reaches out to trace the marks left by the stars as they get closer to their destination. “But I guess I was never meant to.”  
  
“And do you believe that?” Nino asks as politely and as quietly as he can manage. Sakurai frowns at him, but he ignores it. He might be insolent, but this talk is soothing to him. “That you’re meant for what you’re doing now?”  
  
Jun blinks. “We all have our own place. That’s what I believe.” Jun’s eyes move to his, and Nino can tell what he’s thinking. He has seen that look in the eyes of many, even before Jun.  
  
It’s what _you_ don’t believe in. The look Jun is giving him is not accusatory, merely being factual.  
  
“Five minutes, Ambassador,” Aiba announces, saving Nino from replying. Nino doubts Aiba has knowledge of what they’re talking about. Aiba just has great timing, as always.  
  
Jun nods in acknowledgement, turning away. When Nino sneaks a glance at Sakurai, he sees a frown there, though not directed at him. He seems lost in thought. Nino wonders if Sakurai would know if he ever considers telling him. How long was Sakurai in the Union?  
  
No time to pick at scabs. He shakes his head, clears the sentiment away.  
  
“Are you nervous?” Sakurai suddenly asks.  
  
Nino catches Jun smiling a little, lips curling. It’s not mocking nor done out of amusement. It’s soft, devoid of judgment, instead full of understanding. Jun possesses a very expressive face, and Nino’s thankful for it.  
  
He gives himself time to think about the question. “I don’t know.”  
  
“Your hands tremble,” Sakurai notes. He doesn’t embarrass Nino by looking at Nino’s hands. He doesn’t need to, anyway. His observation hit the mark.  
  
“Is that nervousness?” he asks, sincerely wanting to know. He hasn’t felt this in years. In a decade. More than that, even. “I don’t know what to call it.” Defensively, he clasps his hands together at his back, to stop them from twitching at his sides.  
  
Aiba announces that they’re two minutes away, and Jun strides into position, standing at the center of the viewscreen. Nino moves to stand behind him at the same time Sakurai does, and as Aiba does a countdown, he grips his hand tighter to steel himself, prevent them from shaking involuntarily.  
  
“If it’s any consolation,” Sakurai whispers, but loud enough that Nino can catch it, “I wouldn’t have agreed to marry someone incompetent.”  
  
Nino’s eyes widen in his surprise, and he sees Jun smile, teeth bared. Turning to look at Sakurai, he sees nothing there but a collected expression, like he didn’t just say something encouraging at a crucial moment.  
  
Aiba’s countdown ends, and in a blink, the Zuran royal vessel comes into view. It’s bigger than their spacecraft, more regal and less inconspicuous. It would be an easy target in a time of war.  
  
Nino’s eyes narrow as he observes their ship move closer to the Zuran craft. This is why the Zurans welcomed an alien species to their hive. Their ship, one that houses the most influential leaders on their planet, is too extravagant. Too noticeable. If they have allies, they can sneak away their political leaders in another craft, something that would be less suspected.  
  
A human transport ship, for instance.  
  
Is that what they want, Nino wonders. He read the draft of the treaty yesterday in preparation, just as he did before Ilari. It wasn’t included, that the Union would offer refuge to monarchs once war breaks out. Earth is a potential war zone, as if the planet hadn’t seen too many wars in its time. But Nino supposes it isn’t far from what the Zurans will ask for. It’s a negotiation, and if Earth offers a safehouse, the treaty has higher chances of being accepted and signed by both parties.  
  
He was never much for politics, but he understood the symbiosis of it, even when he was young. More so when he was young. He owes that skill to the colony, perhaps.  
  
“There’s a transmission request, sir,” the officer at the helm announces. “It’s from the Zuran royal vessel.”  
  
“Accept,” Jun commands, his posture perfect. Nino imitates it.  
  
Within seconds, the face of the Zuran monarch appears all over the viewscreen.  
  
Jun inclines his head, a gesture of polite greeting. “Greetings from the Union.”  
  
Nino does his job, and they all watch as the monarch frowns. “ _Not from Earth?_ ” the monarch asks, the golden circlet in her hair shining as she straightens in her seat.  
  
Nino translates it for Jun, and he sees Jun grin. His Union-perfected one. “Earth is not the only planet that forms the Union, Your Majesty.”  
  
Nino conveys this message to her, and she returns Jun’s smile, but not in the same intensity. Hers is more collected, more rehearsed, offering no dash of amusement, merely the slightest hint of politeness.  
  
“ _Then I return the greeting, Ambassador. We’ve been expecting you. Our tractor awaits your shuttle whenever you are ready._ ”  
  
On Jun’s other side, Sakurai does nothing but keep his face indifferent as Nino translates as accurately as he can for Jun. He’s listening intently though, that much Nino can tell. If Nino makes a mistake, he knows Sakurai will rectify it immediately.  
  
“I wanted to greet you in person,” Jun says as an answer, and Nino stills. That wasn’t in the script. Sakurai briefed him about what Jun’s going to say an hour before the rendezvous by sending the information in Nino’s data pad. Nino crammed it all in his head, but he knows this isn’t anything like he read. “Your Majesty,” Jun adds as an afterthought.  
  
Nino translates it for him, and they see her eyebrow quirking. Zurans are a humanoid species, almost human-like in fact, except for their purplish skin. Nino had read long ago that when they get angry, they turn to the color of prunes.  
  
“ _I can see that, Ambassador._ ” Her answer was curt, and now she seems she’s wary of what Jun is going to say. “ _And I have returned your...sentiments. Unless you’re expecting something else?_ ”  
  
Before Nino opens his mouth, he sees the grin on Jun’s face and he knows Jun must have an inkling of what he’s about to interpret. He does it anyway, whispering it in Jun’s ear, as well as his question of “what are you doing, Jun-kun?”  
  
“None of the sort,” Jun replies immediately. “We look forward to meeting you in person. My envoy is grateful for the hospitality.”  
  
As soon as Nino conveys that part of the message, they only receive a nod from the monarch before the transmission ends, the viewscreen once more revealing the Zuran royal vessel parked right in front of their ship.  
  
“What was that?” Nino asks again, once Jun left the bridge to head for the shuttles, Sakurai at their heels.  
  
“She doesn’t trust us,” Jun says smoothly, striding in a graceful, calm manner. He appears to be in no hurry to meet the royal family. “I just wanted to see for myself.”  
  
“The past war didn’t do that for you? History books and other holorecords didn’t?” Nino demands, and for the first time, he feels Sakurai’s hand on his elbow. Stopping him. Sakurai’s face looks deprecating, but Jun just continues to walk, unaware of what’s happening behind him, giving them no choice but to follow.  
  
“On the contrary, I thought the past war would have made them more averse to this diplomatic meeting. And yet here we are, in their territory, the Union’s offer for diplomacy entertained, even accepted,” Jun says. They’re still a few levels away from the transport shuttle where Aiba awaits. Aiba left the bridge even before the transmission request was sent, and he awaits them in the hangar along with Jun’s bodyguards.  
  
“So you just had to check if the Zurans still don’t trust us? Of course they don’t. Earth didn’t extend any help in their last civil war. They still take that to heart,” Nino tells him.  
  
Jun hums. “Oh, but Zura wasn’t part of the Union when the war took place.” He smiles a bit. “Still isn’t a part of the Union even now, my apologies. I keep forgetting that the first contact failed.”  
  
“And do you intend to let this fail too?” Nino asks, trying to shrug off Sakurai’s restricting hold on him. His grip is unrelenting.  
  
“Ambassador, if he’s not ready—” Sakurai starts, but Jun lifts his hand to dismiss his concerns.  
  
Then Jun turns around to face them both, his smile still in place. Nino can see the marks surrounding his mouth, stretched on the skin as he grins wider. “Nino,” Jun says.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“You could’ve chosen not to translate what I said earlier.” Jun nods at Sakurai, and the grip on Nino’s elbow finally slackens. “You could’ve chosen not to translate it literally.”  
  
Nino straightens. It’s suddenly difficult to look at Jun, but he doesn’t dare shy away. “Was that it? A test for me? To see if I can spin your words before it leads to potential misunderstanding?”  
  
Jun tilts his head. “I was merely giving you a choice. However you view it is up to you.” He turns around and resumes walking towards the lifts. “Now we mustn’t keep them waiting. Not when Her Majesty thinks I’m up to something.”  
  
But you are, Nino wants to hurl at him.  
  
Instead he steps into the lifts that would take them to the shuttles without another word, the skin around his elbow burning as he recalled how tightly Sakurai held on to it. He must’ve known. Had Jun also tested Sakurai in this manner? Nino wouldn’t put it past him.  
  
Jun wasn’t cruel, but he, once again, wasn’t lying to Nino when he said he was a hard man to work for.  
  
Inside the lifts, Nino’s hands twitch at his sides and he shuts his eyes.  
  
Nerves. He’s certain now.  
  
\--  
  
The Zuran royal vessel smells too sweet for Nino’s liking, more than the air of any high-end establishment he’s been in. Like freshly harvested flowers pressed against animal fat to preserve their essence, permeating the surroundings with floral sweetness that lingers even in clothing. If it wouldn’t be rude, he would ask if they make pomades and perfumes here.  
  
He resists the urge to scrunch his nose, waiting for his odor receptors to adapt. It takes him a few moments, but once they’re face to face with Her Majesty, the temptation for any part of his body to twitch dissipates.  
  
Jun’s words ring in his head, and his contact memory is more active than he took it for; he can still remember how tightly Sakurai gripped him. The only time Sakurai Sho touched him on his own volition, and it was for his protection.  
  
Not from Jun. From himself.  
  
Nino forgets sometimes. That anger can get the best of him, of anyone really, if not channeled correctly. It amazes him that Sakurai has realized that. Nino wasn’t angry at Jun earlier, no, but he felt the tiny pinpricks of it. Hints. Dashes. If exposed to a bigger stimulus maybe he would’ve given in. He’s not volatile, but he doesn’t enjoy being perplexed. It’s like being thrown out of his element and he has enough experience of that occurring, much to his annoyance.  
  
And yet Sakurai stopped him. Gripped him so tight even before he realized his voice started demanding Jun for answers. It was a simple matter of not being familiar with what he is supposed to do, and of course Sakurai understood. How can he not?  
  
As they all stand in front of the Zuran monarch, Nino’s thoughts flit for a brief moment to Sakurai, at how perceptive he must be to have predicted Nino’s reaction. Did he act the same way once, perhaps when he was younger, with Jun even more so?  
  
“ _I would appreciate if we could get to the matter at once,_ ” Her Majesty says, and Nino snaps back at attention, mouth immediately moving to translate to standard. “ _We have no time for frivolities, Ambassador. I still have unaddressed concerns regarding this visit. I’m quite certain you’d agree with me on that._ ”  
  
Nino pauses at that, wondering if he should translate the barely concealed insult. Jun is waiting, and when Nino sneaks a glance to Sakurai, Sakurai has his eyes on the monarch.  
  
Nino decides to go for something simpler. “She says she wishes not to waste any more time.”  
  
“Naturally,” is Jun’s smooth response. For a moment Nino wonders if Sakurai was lying and Jun actually understands Zuran, because his response is perfect despite Nino’s revision. But no. What would Sakurai Sho gain from lying? “If you would lead the way then, Majesty, to someplace private where we can begin?”  
  
Nino doesn’t omit a word out of that request, though he made it sound as polite as he could. The monarch doesn’t look convinced that Jun phrased it that way, and Nino realizes that was his doing in the bridge earlier.  
  
But, Nino considers, didn’t Jun do that at the risk of his reputation? He can’t figure out exactly why. Giving him choices, Jun said. A test then. From his employer.  
  
He manages to shut off light conversations around them that don’t require participation as he ponders on Jun’s words. It hits him then, when they turn another corridor that has security doors guarding it. The sudden sweep of hydraulics felt like a douse of cold water.  
  
No. Nino would shake his head and laugh, but it would alert people around him that he’s deep in thought as they make their way to a private conference room within the Zuran royal vessel.  
  
It wasn’t a test. It isn’t.  
  
It’s a challenge.  
  
Certainly not the kind Nino expected. It wasn’t even presented in the manner that he expected. But he recognizes it for what it is, and he wants to prove himself, like always. He wants to rise from his mistake, do better, _be_ better. It’s what he always did. His manner of adaptation and sublimation, so vastly different from merely channeling what he feels towards something else, have always manifested this way.  
  
He will never be able to shake those off. Not when they took him this far.  
  
The doors to the nearest function room hiss open, revealing a long table that has built-in holo screens. Jun nods at Sakurai who immediately gets to work: uploading the draft of the treaty in the drive so any concerned members can peruse it at their leisure.  
  
Nino takes the seat beside Jun, who retains his air of friendliness. The Zurans certainly have their doubts over the visit—it’s evident in the fleeting glances thrown at the diplomatic party. They don’t maintain eye contact for too long, just long enough to be polite.  
  
Trust is something they won’t easily give.  
  
But that’s what they’re here for. It’s Nino’s job to make Jun as convincing as he is, perhaps even more so, for the Union to finally secure the allegiance of these people.  
  
“I see no reason to delay any further, so if everyone would be so kind to read the first clause of the treaty along with its corresponding annotations, located at section III of the entire draft?” Jun asks, and Nino automatically translates it for him. “I would gladly entertain questions regarding each clause, but I ask that we stick first to the section we’re currently at so as to avoid confusion.”  
  
The treaty is written in both Zuran and standard, prepared by the official translators of the Union and triple-checked by Sakurai Sho. Nino has little cause for doubt that anything would be lost in translation as he watches the Zuran royal council and monarch read every single line in the file, dissecting it for any hidden meanings.  
  
Jun gives them five minutes before he clears his throat. “Any questions or clarifications?”  
  
A petite woman with her hair swept back raises her hand, rings gleaming under the light. Sakurai immediately turns to whisper in Jun’s ear who she is and what her position in the council is. That remains his job even if Nino is the primary translator.  
  
“ _I will be forthright with my query, Ambassador, if that is acceptable to you?_ ” is the question, and Nino translates it as calmly as he can, despite knowing that something is being thrown their way.  
  
Jun simply inclines his head in permission.  
  
“ _The Union is facing the threat of intergalactic war at every turn. You are not the only peace envoy sent to distant, outer rim planets. The Delta Quadrant is too far from Earth, and yet, you dared to venture as far as this for allies. Zura remembers. Earth did nothing when civil war nearly destroyed the dynasty. And now Earth asks for allegiance from a race that they did not bother to lend aid to in time of their need?_ ”  
  
Her concern is perfectly understandable. Nino does his best to convey her question as accurately as possible to Jun, who doesn’t show any sign of surprise nor intimidation.  
  
“If I may be so bold, Ambassador,” Nino says as a follow-up since he still has Jun’s attention, “their concerns are not unfounded for me.”  
  
“As you have expressed before,” Jun acknowledges. “What would you tell her then, Nino, if you were in my place?”  
  
He doesn’t dally. “I would acknowledge it. Earth played no part in their planetary civil war, that much is true.”  
  
Jun nods. “Then go say that in their tongue.”  
  
Nino sneaks one glance at Sakurai but the man only has his eyes in front of the council members. He definitely heard the conversation, and Nino wonders if Sakurai had been put in a similar situation before.  
  
He does as Jun asked. “ _Earth remained a neutral party when the Zuran civil war happened, yes. And it is as you say, council member. The Union seeks allies at a time when every waking moment might be precursor to war._ ”  
  
A balding, elderly Zuran raises his hand and Jun inclines his head in acceptance. The Zuran’s question is practically the same, expressing doubt and poorly concealed contempt for Earth’s decision not to ally with the dynasty before, but with a striking follow-up that almost makes Nino frown: “ _Why should we ally ourselves with Earth when they did nothing for us?_ ”  
  
The similarities are beginning to surface, he realizes. The doubts and concerns of a planet are almost akin to his own back then, from before. Different circumstances and yet almost the same questions.  
  
He starts to understand why Jun thought he’d be perfect for the job. He can understand the Zurans well enough, more than just their language. What drives them to say what they say, their disbelief over an attempt at diplomacy.  
  
Empathy is a powerful thing, and he had asked the same things before. Quite recently in fact, if he takes into consideration how long he’s been a part of Jun’s envoy.  
  
He opens his mouth and translates the concern, and Jun lets out a soft smile. Nino can’t determine if that’s directed at him or at the situation.  
  
“What do you want me to say?” he asks tentatively.  
  
“What would _you_ say?” Jun asks back, tilting his head a little to the side.  
  
Nino would laugh if he could. “Did I just become the Ambassador?”  
  
Jun’s expression betrays nothing. “I’m simply asking for an opinion.”  
  
Nino’s gaze falls on Sakurai.  
  
“We have talked extensively about it,” Jun says, pertaining to his assistant. “Even before I decided you were going to be my primary translator. I already know his views on the matter. Yours, I don’t. And I’m asking for them now.”  
  
“I would say they’re not wrong to be so doubtful of us,” Nino answers finally.  
  
Jun nods. “Then tell them that. And tell them that this is why the Union came in peace. The allegiance is not the immediate expectation should negotiations push through—it’s diplomacy. I am here to negotiate a treaty, not merely to ask them to sign it. I’m here for peace, and that remains unchanging.”  
  
Clauses can be revised to suit everybody’s satisfaction, is basically what Jun is telling him. Nino knows this, of course, but he needed the reassurance. When they visited Ilari, allegiance was the main goal since the first contact with the planet ended well. The Zurans are not so foolish to not realize what the Union desires from them in the end, but as Jun said, that can come later.  
  
Nino conveys as much to the council. They exchange looks and politely excuse themselves to discuss, and Jun grants it with only a smile and a nod.  
  
“For the record,” Jun says as they relax a little and turn away to give the Zurans a bit of privacy despite their case, “your concerns matched Sho-kun’s in some parts.”  
  
Nino doesn’t reply to that, uncertain of what Jun wants to hear.  
  
“We’re still in the first section, Ambassador. There are bound to be more,” Sakurai says as a reminder.  
  
“Of course there are. Wait until they get to the allegiance part. They will definitely ask for a revision, if an omission is not possible,” Nino says.  
  
Jun turns to face him. “And why do you think they would want that part of the treaty to be omitted?”  
  
There are two pairs of eyes on him now—Jun’s and his secretary’s—, watching him intently. Nino wets his lips. “Because we did nothing for them. Why should they give us what we need when we did nothing?”  
  
“You think they hold a grudge against us,” Sakurai concludes.  
  
“And you do not?” he asks, incredulous.  
  
Jun is silent between them, his chin resting on his knuckles as he listens.  
  
“I wouldn’t say it’s unexpected,” Sakurai says.  
  
Nino’s eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t put it past them but you don’t think they do? That sounds a bit contradictory.”  
  
“The difference between your perception and mine, Ninomiya-san,” Sakurai begins, “is that you are calling things as they are. I’m calling things as what I hope them to be.”  
  
“Very Union-like, Sakurai-san, I’ll give you that. But that sort of idealism can only get us so far.”  
  
“And what would you rather believe?” Sakurai asks him. “That the ultimate purpose of our visit won’t be granted because of a past resentment?”  
  
Nino lets out a breath. “I believe that forgiveness is one thing. Trust is something we can’t gain overnight, not by behaving while we’re in their ship.”  
  
Sakurai levels him with a look, like he’s seeing Nino’s point. There’s a surprising lack of judgment in there, but the curiosity feels a little intrusive and Nino has to turn away.  
  
Jun straightens. “See why we need a third brain in this, Sho-kun?” He sounds pleased and smug.  
  
Sakurai looks like he wants to roll his eyes but is restraining himself.  
  
The Zuran council shuffle back to their seats, and this time, it’s the monarch herself who clears her throat. She becomes the sole focus of the meeting then, and she turns her eyes to Jun and inclines her head.  
  
“ _Upon further deliberation with my trusted council, I have decided to push through with the negotiations. No more delays of any sort. I, however, will allow recesses provided that the Ambassador extends us the same courtesy._ ”  
  
Nino leans closer to Jun to tell him about the development, and with one nod of Jun’s head, he faces the monarch once more. “ _The Ambassador is agreeable, Your Majesty._ ”  
  
Her lips upturn to the barest hints of a smile. “ _Then I propose we proceed to the concerns of everyone in this room. The sooner we have settled such an important matter, the better. It will allow us to proceed with ease in the succeeding days._ ” She earns murmurs of agreement as she waits for Nino to convey this to Jun.  
  
“We can say no,” Nino adds, making it look like he’s still translating. “Go by the book because that’s what we always do.”  
  
Jun gives a thoughtful hum. “Tell her I accept.”  
  
Nino would never understand Jun, but he does what he’s told.  
  
As soon as the last word left Nino’s lips, the Zurans move to the last section of the draft, flicking their fingers over their data pads. It’s Sakurai who does the turning for Jun, mumbling a quiet “excuse me” as he leans over and manipulates the data pad.  
  
Jun keeps his eyes fixed on the members of the council, his expression composed with hints of friendliness. He seems ready, but the apprehension over his capabilities stem from his youth. Every council member in front of them is, in Nino’s estimate, over 70 Earth years of age. Zurans have a longer lifespan than humans, and from what Nino can recall from his rushed readings of three cycles ago, their age is determined according to how many dynasties they’ve lived in.  
  
Her Majesty is the forty-second monarch of the Zuran royal bloodline, and to Nino’s knowledge, the oldest council member has seen twenty rulers come and go, which makes him younger than Jun regardless of the lack of similar standards.  
  
But they clearly see Jun as someone younger and youth automatically denotes inexperience. Perhaps they’re thinking of cornering them to an eventual omission of a particular clause. Nino can only hope Jun knows exactly what he’s doing.  
  
“ _Allegiance is, as you have likely surmised, our primary concern. A good portion of my council believes we can compromise on most things but not on this particular part of the treaty. A small portion, however, believes we should refrain from compromising anything at all,_ ” Her Majesty tells them, and Nino’s mouth immediately moves to tell Jun everything—the thinly veiled contempt, the distrust.  
  
Jun whispers what he should say next, and Nino has to clear his throat to get the words out. “ _The Ambassador would like to know what Her Majesty believes._ ”  
  
The monarch’s expression betrays nothing, like she expected Jun to say such a thing. “ _I believe my council’s suggestions, despite how varying they are, have merit. That it is prudent that I heed every word with caution, as any step I take might mean prosperity or eventual downfall of the dynasty._ ” She turns to Nino expectantly, waiting for him to finish translating. When Nino gives her a nod, she continues, “ _But what I truly believe is that if Earth engages in the war that may yet come with Zura as one of its allies, there will be yet another threat of civil war on our planet. There are many who lost their faith in the royal family. Any upcoming war will only aggravate that._ ”  
  
Nino understands where she’s coming from. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and that crown seems to rely on the people’s approval of her and her rule given the recent events in their history. Earth’s absence in their civil war affairs puts Jun’s peace envoy in a precarious position—they have no knowledge of the depth of their struggles. Nino’s empathy for them only draws on similar experiences, not on shared ones.  
  
“What do you want me to say?” Nino asks when Jun’s silence stretches.  
  
“There are Zurans in certain off-world settlements,” Jun says, nodding at him, and Nino translates as he resumes speaking. “Scattered across different quadrants, mingling with humans and other species despite Earth’s decision to remain neutral in the last civil war. If the intergalactic war breaks out as we all fear, your people are also in danger. The Union, of course, will protect these colonies to the best of their ability, but not knowing where the first strike might be puts us to a disadvantage. If any of these off-world settlements are attacked, on a quadrant that doesn’t consist of enough Union-allied planets, who’s going to help those people? Will you turn a blind eye to your own kind because of your reservations regarding the proposed allegiance?”  
  
Nino finishes translating and he feels detached from every word he uttered. Jun’s voice was firm and his expression showed conviction that can’t be mistaken for something else, but it does nothing other than take Nino back. It hits too close. The Delta Quadrant has sparse colonies, being far from the Union’s headquarters and at the edge of the scope of known allied planets. It sounds like a statistical tally when spoken out loud, but the reality of it is something else. Something that’s not easy to forget, something that lingers.  
  
It’s with me no matter where I go, he thinks.  
  
“What was your vow when you accepted the crown, Your Majesty?” Jun asks. Nino’s voice sounds hollow to his own ears but he does his job. “Protecting the people is part of it, yes? That you are to be their provider, their mother, their voice. If a Zuran leaves his home planet, does the royal vow cease to be applicable on his person?”  
  
The skins of the council members turn a darker shade of purple, but the monarch’s face remains calm and collected. “ _It doesn’t, and I’m certain you know that, Ambassador._ ”  
  
Jun inclines his head. “I’m not pressuring you into agreeing on this part of the treaty. I’m merely pointing out that the Union has had events in which help came too late, and if we can work together to slim the chances of those happening again, then why shouldn’t we? If war is inevitable at every turn, why should that stop us from safeguarding the people, yours and mine?”  
  
Nino turns to look at Jun and studies every piece of dedication and passion in his eyes. The Union can use more people like him, someone who’s willing to put the political affairs aside to avoid repeats in history.  
  
Her Majesty inclines her head slightly after a moment. “ _I speak for myself when I say this, Ambassador,_ ” she pauses to let Nino do his work and proceeds at Nino’s acknowledging nod, “ _that part of my fear is a repeat of what happened in the human colony of Nyx VII—_ ”  
  
Her mouth continues speaking but Nino can no longer hear anything. He feels too stuffed in this room, like he has been chucked into a cell for solitary confinement—no windows, no doors. The cacophony resonates inside him, as if it is coming from within him. He can feel the edges of the seat digging into his palms with how strained his grip is in a desperate attempt to ground himself.  
  
Breathe, he tells himself. Breathe, you idiot, breathe.  
  
There is a momentary surge of calm that courses through him, lightning fast, but as soon as he shuts his eyes to let it flow, sudden cold replaces it. He remembers—belatedly as he tries to hang on to where he is at present—that cold doesn’t denote a presence but an absence.  
  
A void is growing inside him and it’s beginning to suck him in.  
  
“I failed as your governor,” is what he hears next. Booming from the sound system attached under a lamp post, broadcasting to every area of the colony. “But there is still something that can be done. Help will not come. We are too far. By the time the Union is here, it will be too late—”  
  
Then the screams come. Protests, questions, outspoken confusion, all of which end up the same: muffled, distant, and eventually silenced. The ground shakes beneath him and he’s afraid that once he opens his eyes, he’s going to see that underneath his boots is the dirt that damned them all.  
  
“Ninomiya,” he hears. From the speakers. He’s in the crowd again, standing in line, awaiting judgment, his name from the list. He didn’t make it, did he? He’s too old to be considered. If he’s too old then why is he surrounded by children? Why is he in this corner and not amongst the adults? “Ninomiya.”  
  
“Nino,” comes again, louder and with more emphasis, and there’s a fierce grip on his shoulder this time. The walls collapse, the cold begins to ebb away to a dull but gnawing ache, the dirt under his soles fading to nothingness.  
  
He opens his eyes to almost blinding light and sees more than feels Sakurai shaking him.  
  
When he looks up, the meeting room is empty.  
  
“What happened?” he asks out of breath, nothing too different from that day he ran to hide.  
  
“The Ambassador called for a momentary recess,” Sakurai explains. There is a concerned frown on his face. “To clear his head, he reasoned. He is accompanied by his bodyguards. One of the council members proposed to give him a tour of the ship and he accepted despite the language barrier.”  
  
Nino straightens in his seat. There’s a trickle of cold sweat trickling down from his temple. “I’m sorry. I— I wasn’t able to translate what Her Majesty was saying earlier.”  
  
Sakurai looks close to snorting. “I covered for that immediately.” He stands and steps back, giving Nino space to breathe. “No harm done, I think. As soon as you went silent I stepped in.”  
  
Of course he did. Nino’s thankful Sakurai was paying attention to everything. “Jun-kun really left you here with me?” he asks, not entirely convinced.  
  
“He said he could handle himself and that he wouldn’t trust anybody else,” Sakurai tells him, an eyebrow arched in a dare for him to contest. “Would you care to explain what happened or would you rather not talk about it?”  
  
Nino shakes his head once. “I went back. That’s all.” He exhales. “Am I getting fired as soon as we’re back on the ship?”  
  
“That is for the Ambassador to decide.” Sakurai throws him another concerned look mixed with curiosity, and Nino lowers his head so as not to see it.  
  
He hears a sigh. “Personally, I don’t believe he will fire you because of that. I’ve done worse and yet here I am, still working for him.” Sakurai takes the seat next to Nino but his gaze is fixed on the empty holotable in front of them. “But he will want an explanation.”  
  
Nino almost smiles. “He doesn’t need one.” He knows, goes unsaid.  
  
Sakurai nods after a moment. “We were granted a recess of fifteen minutes.”  
  
“And what’s the time now?”  
  
“You have at least half of that left.” There’s no judgment in Sakurai’s voice. He used his informative tone on Nino, and to Nino that is new. Their proximity in this room is somehow comforting to him. Sakurai remains pointedly focused on the holotable, giving him every bit of privacy he can get, but at the same time sitting close to remind him he’s not alone.  
  
Jun would never leave him alone in the hands of someone incapable.  
  
Nino nods, leaning back against the headrest. He takes measured breaths and counts each, exhales as slow as possible to drag it out. The voices are starting to fade, and to hasten the process, he starts shushing.  
  
Sakurai turns to him, perhaps to tell Nino that he’s not talking at present, but Nino merely shakes his head to dismiss his concerns. “I didn’t mean you. Just—” he trails off, unable to explain.  
  
“Okay,” he hears, and Sakurai shifts his gaze someplace else, giving him all the privacy he can have in their situation.  
  
He resumes silencing the voices he can hear, rocking himself a little in his seat. In a few minutes Jun will be back, the royal council with him. He doesn’t have time, but whatever he has left, he can use to ground himself again. He continues shushing under his breath, telling himself over and over that nothing is out there.  
  
“One minute,” Sakurai says eventually, and Nino takes one last deep breath before opening his eyes.  
  
“If I mess up again, don’t wait anymore and just step in,” he says as a reminder.  
  
Sakurai’s eyebrow is quirked now. “There are things you don’t have to tell me, Ninomiya.” He says the last bit with a hint of competitiveness, and Nino lets out a chuckle, appreciating the intent of creating a diversion.  
  
“Thanks,” Nino says. He can sense the bewildered look Sakurai throws at him but he ignores it.  
  
From the corner of his eye he sees Sakurai’s hand wave in dismissal. “I was ordered to do it.”  
  
Nino almost rolls his eyes, but he might trigger a migraine so he doesn’t. “He rarely orders you around,” he points out. “Just accept it, will you?”  
  
There is the barest hint of a smirk on Sakurai’s face when Nino faces him. “In the future, I think it would benefit us both if you learn how to ask nicely,” he says as Nino’s eyes widen, “husband.”  
  
The doors to the meeting room swoosh open, revealing the Zuran monarch, Jun and his bodyguards trailing behind her, and the Zuran small council following him. Sakurai smoothly stands at the same time as Nino’s, his face not giving away anything he has said earlier.  
  
Nino’s ears are turning pink but he barrels through it, meeting Jun’s questioning look with a decisive nod.  
  
The council members assume their former seats just as Sakurai moves back to his original one, Jun taking his between them once more.  
  
Her Majesty remains standing, and with a nod from Jun, she clears her throat. “ _Then we proceed with where we left off in negotiating this treaty._ ”


	3. Chapter 3

The remainders of the negotiations thankfully have no further mention of Nyx VII and Nino is able to perform his task as Jun’s primary translator without any more incidents until the call for another recess. It continues in this fashion for five cycles, with each cycle shift punctuated with a recess and a tour in the Zuran ship, something that Nino ends up accompanying Jun and Sakurai on.  
  
After five cycles of going back and forth over the allegiance section of the treaty, Jun finally manages to make the Zuran monarch sign it.  
  
To commemorate the success of the negotiations, their party is offered a visit to the sacred temple located in the planet’s capital city, followed by ceremonies which stretch on for two Zuran days (a total of twenty-eight hours since a day in Zura lasts only for fourteen).  
  
As soon as they make it back on the ship, Nino asks Jun for access to his personal records.  
  
He does it inside Jun’s private office, not making eye contact with either Jun or Sakurai.  
  
“If I grant you that, what will you do?” Jun asks conversationally. Sakurai remains standing in his usual place at Jun’s side, his expression an almost comical mixture of caution and confusion.  
  
“I won’t delete anything,” Nino says defensively, not enjoying the way Sakurai is looking at him. “I just...I need to find out what it says about me. About...that time.”  
  
A few beats of silence stretches until Jun inclines his head in a gesture of agreement. He extends his hand expectantly, and Sakurai immediately procures Jun’s personal data pad to place it on his waiting hand.  
  
Jun keys in his authorizations and finds the file in question before handing the data pad to Nino.  
  
“Since I’m the only one who has full access on these things, you’re going to have to look at it with me in the room,” Jun says.  
  
“Fine with me,” is all Nino says, eyes immediately scanning as he begins scrolling.  
  
The first paragraph details things he had put in his résumé and he skips past them until he zeroes in on the colony name.  
  
He pauses and looks up.  
  
“Would you like for Sho-kun to leave the room?” Jun offers.  
  
Nino thinks about it. On any other day he would have said yes. The festivities in Zura happened with him and Sakurai throwing jibes at each other in an attempt to catch the other off-guard. Sakurai had upped the stakes by referring to him as husband under his breath, something Nino returned with equal enthusiasm. Each time Sakurai’s ears turned pink, he considered himself banking points.  
  
But then he remembers that incident in the meeting room and the person who stayed with him and gave him as much time as he needed to right himself.  
  
“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s... I think it’s best if he knows.” If Nino lapses once more, it’s better for Sakurai to foresee it happening so he can take over as soon as possible.  
  
He resumes scrolling and finds that period of his life. He never read what the papers and the coverage had to say when he managed to return to Earth. He has no idea how the incident was viewed by the Union and its allies.  
  
There is only a paragraph dedicated to him being a colonist from the now-uninhabited Nyx VII, formal name QW-5662. He skips the sentence about the colony’s coordinates and exact location and just reads the part about him.  
  
When he’s done rereading it thrice, he highlights the text and enables holoprojection. Jun rises from his chair and begins pacing his room, hands clasped behind his back. Sakurai, meanwhile, reads the holorecord, mouth moving as he squints at the words.  
  
When he’s done, Nino sees that he throws a bewildered look in Jun’s direction, who takes no heed of it.  
  
“It takes me back,” Nino says, turning off the projector option. “Not when I hear the name, but when I hear the circumstances related to that time, like help coming too late.” He fiddles with the data pad in his hands, not wanting Sakurai to notice his fingers twitching. “It doesn’t happen often. I’m telling you because in case it happens again, you can jump in and save Jun-kun from making a fool of himself.”  
  
Somewhere in the room, he hears Jun snort. “Sho-kun handled it just fine in Zura, don’t exaggerate.”  
  
“But it was still unprecedented and since you’re not firing me even though you really should, it can happen again and I don’t want that,” Nino says. He holds Sakurai’s gaze and is unable to name what he sees there. Not judgment, not horror, but something else. “The Union records don’t say everything, of course. But now that you’re aware, you can piece things together, I guess, if you know how things unfolded on Nyx VII some twenty-three, twenty-two years ago.”  
  
“There was a fungus,” Sakurai says, and Nino gives him a grim nod. Sakurai doesn’t say anything other than that. Nino supposes that his knowledge only draws from the holorecords of the incident, perhaps on a couple of theses written on the matter. All scientific, all statistical. The events of Nyx VII are a blip in the statistics of the Union’s off-world settlements. Nobody bothers to ask the traumatized survivors what they had survived out of fear of triggering panic attacks. That part, Nino remembers too well. When he was young he interpreted it as people not caring.  
  
The Union records somehow managed to reiterate that possibility. But Nino no longer has the excuse of youth, so he tries to look at it from a different perspective. A more mature one since he’s technically working for the Union now.  
  
But what really happened stays with him, and the way Sakurai is looking at him is telling him that the man somehow understands. Either that or he has found an ounce of sympathy for Nino.  
  
Either way, Nino dislikes it.  
  
“I’m not here to talk about anything in detail to you. You’re not writing a thesis about it. And besides, I’m not looking for sympathy,” he says, voice hard. If he gets that, it’s decades too late. There’s no use for it. “I’m letting you know so we can work better together. But this part of my history is mine, and while I do know I have your strictest confidence about this, I’m going to have to ask you not to look at me like that.”  
  
“Like what?” Sakurai asks, head tilted, a frown on his features.  
  
Like you pity me. Like you know something I don’t. Like there’s something that’s missing and you’re trying to find it. “Like you can fix things,” he says, finally. “There’s nothing to fix, okay? It’s done. I just experience relapses since I never ventured out into space when I got back to Earth. Until now, until this job. I’m still adjusting, I guess. But don’t look at me like that.”  
  
Jun clears his throat from the corner of the room and they both turn to him, finding him perusing the hard copies of the novels he’d asked Sakurai to pack for him. His fingers are idly tracing the engraved titles on the spines. “You did well on Zura, Nino. Sho-kun, I appreciate everything you did to cover that up. I think the monarch got a hint of it, but she never confirmed any of her suspicions with me.” Jun faces Nino with a soft smile. “I’m not firing you. You’re no diplomat because you don’t bother to hide your doubts about the Union, true, but I’m starting to believe a little skepticism can be useful against an excess of idealism. You are a source of the former and I have to be a complete fool to let you go.”  
  
“Very sweet of you to put it that way, Jun-kun.” It earns him Jun’s laugh. He should have married Jun instead. But that would require a ton of paperwork once discovered, and Jun’s private life is mostly reported to the Union. Jun is a public figure, the face of the planet, and Nino can’t really see the possibility of him getting attached for the sake of diplomacy.  
  
Nino faces Sakurai again. “If one of these days I go absolutely nuts, I guess we can annul it then.” He means that mostly as a joke, but Sakurai doesn’t crack a smile.  
  
If he listens to the voices in his head long enough, that’s how he’s going to end, he believes. With enough stimulus, he can easily cross the threshold. There’s nothing anchoring him other than his grip on reality, after all.  
  
Silence falls upon the three of them, interspersed with Jun humming something off-key to himself as he tries to pick a book to read. He seems very indecisive about the simplest things. Nino feels Sakurai observing him and he deliberately doesn’t pay any attention to it.  
  
When it’s becoming too much of a task for him, he sighs. “Something you’re curious about, husband?” He puts emphasis on the last word and he’s positive what followed is a stifled laugh from Jun.  
  
Sakurai makes a face at him but otherwise opens his mouth. “There are just some things I don’t understand.”  
  
Trust him to be methodical about it. Nino leans back on the chair. “Okay. I’m allowing you one question for the posterity of our union.” He grins when Sakurai rolls his eyes at him. The past few days on Zura definitely made him more open at expressing his irritation and unamusement. “But as you said before, it would benefit us both if this involves asking nicely.”  
  
Jun definitely lets out something akin to a cackle at that one.  
  
Sakurai looks unimpressed at his antics. To be fair, he must have had a great deal of practice with all the years he spent on Jun’s side. “Why did you agree to take this job after so many years of avoiding off-planet work?”  
  
His frankness annoys Nino in the way that he wants to spin his answer to utter crap, but he refrains. Out of respect for the unadulterated curiosity he can see in Sakurai’s eyes and for the sake of their working relationship from here on. “Sometimes I just need to prove a point to myself,” he says, enjoying the way Sakurai’s brows furrow further. He doesn’t add anything else. When one has seen what he saw, experienced what he did, it all makes sense.  
  
The lack of similarity between him and Sakurai is what serves as a barrier between them. Nino can see that he truly wants to understand, that he has these unanswered questions he doesn’t dare ask because it’s obvious that Nino would rather not talk about it.  
  
That respect being handed to him, he can appreciate. He waves his hand. “Don’t think too much on it. I never said it before but I’m not here to usurp your job from you. I’m just here to put my tongue to use.”  
  
Jun lets out another laugh at that, and Nino honestly loves him for never failing to be amused at his jokes.  
  
Sakurai merely tilts his head in acknowledgement, expression unreadable.  
  
“Besides,” Nino adds, deciding to test out the waters, “I would really hate to have your job, Sho-chan.”  
  
Sakurai’s eyes widen at the casual use of nicknames, but Nino simply raises an eyebrow in challenge. They’ve been working together for more than two months, married for most of that time, and Nino has had enough of the formalities. Considering their present status under Ilarian law, now’s a good time as any to ramp things up from civility to something that might eventually lead to friendship.  
  
“Only Aiba-chan calls him that,” Jun says. He’s sitting at the couch next to the shelf and preoccupied with an old classic. He’s too far for Nino to make out the title on the cover. “But I suppose with you guys being married, anything goes, right?”  
  
“Nino’s fine,” Nino offers when Sakurai still says nothing. “People only call me Ninomiya when I did something wrong.”  
  
When there’s another extended pause between them, they both hear Jun clicking his tongue. “Don’t be so difficult now, Sho-kun.” There’s a happy, almost contented lilt to his voice that matches the smile on his face as he turns a page.  
  
Sakurai visibly sighs, looking resigned. “Nino it is then.”  
  
Nino grins at that, pleased that Sakurai— _Sho_ actually conceded this round. This is bound to come back at him sometime in the future for sure, but he supposes he can tick off “call him the Aiba-shi way” on his checklist of things to try with Sakurai Sho.  
  
Someday, Nino thinks he can make Sho smile at one of his jokes.  
  
\--  
  
Nino spends the next cycles reading. Not about the scientific discussions regarding that chunk of his past but about language, cultures, customs. Jun informed him that the Union is sending them to a mining planet called Grenus, inhabited by humanoid species but with no prior experience of dealing with humans in person, only via long distance transmissions. All the Union knows about the planet is that it’s a class M (with an atmosphere consisting of nitrogen and oxygen, air cleaner than Earth’s) and the species inhabiting it responded to the Union invitation positively.  
  
“We’re not an expedition team,” Nino argued, back when Jun delivered the news by taking a trip to the bridge and using the comms to announce things himself. “No actual first contact and they’re sending us in? What if they are hostile and just pretending?”  
  
“Then I’m a dead Ambassador by the end of the month,” Jun said, laughing a little.  
  
Nino eyed him in the same way Sho did, that they didn’t find that funny in the slightest.  
  
To placate himself, Nino decided to check out the online databases that are accessible to him to read on Grenus and its known characteristics. Almost Earth-like but five times smaller in diameter, therefore considered as a dwarf planet. It apparently has lush plant life and days on it are filled with rain and thunderstorms. The closest sun is a rarity to see behind thick nimbus clouds.  
  
He listens to the holorecords available and crosschecks the references, trying to judge for himself whether these reading materials can be believed. The cited references truly led him to actual footage of the planetary landscape as well as vivid imagery of the people inhabiting it. For a humanoid species, they look too human. The only difference, Nino notes as he remembers reading about it before, is the lack of a philtrum above their lips. There is also the distinct pallor of their skin to remember them by, but that’s likely caused by the absence of sunlight on their planet.  
  
Nino moves on to the language of Grenus and he feels immensely relieved when he finds out that its people can communicate in standard, save for the more complicated words that are always present in diplomatic negotiations. He nods to himself, thinking they can all use a break after Zura and the hardships it gave them. If the inhabitants of Grenus can understand casual standard, that gives Nino the opportunity to polish his skills in establishing familiarity and camaraderie.  
  
The culture is the unknown part. There’s nothing but a blank space and a collection of sparse, incomplete studies on the matter. He almost frowns at the holos laid out before him but thinks better on it. Perhaps this is why the Union is sending them there, so they can report about it themselves.  
  
“But we’re not explorers,” Nino mutters to himself, unable to stifle his growing annoyance. The Union’s methods are not exemplary in any way, but there are things that are beyond them. Is their ship the only ship that got sent here in this quadrant? He doesn’t believe so.  
  
He flicks his finger to the corner of the screen to contact Sho, and waits for the confirmation that his request patched through.  
  
As soon as he sees Sho’s impassive face looking almost ghoulish because of the holo, he begins talking, ignoring the “what is it now, Nino” as best as he can.  
  
“Does Jun-kun have a scientist of any sort that can help us feel our way around the culture? Because otherwise we’d all end up guessing and for all we know, we might already be committing a criminal offense by, say, sneezing.”  
  
“There is one,” Sho tells him, a questioning look on his round face. “The Ambassador has already added her to the away team this time. She also knows a bit of their language—can understand bits of it but far from fluent, yet she can help us.”  
  
“Oh good, at least we’re not flying totally blind on this one,” he says.  
  
“I assure you, Nino, your concerns—no matter how many of those you have left—have already been taken into account.”  
  
The corner of Nino’s lips quirk up at that. “Is that so? Are you saying you and I share the same concerns about this mission and that Jun-kun already knows them because, as always, you express your opinions so openly in front of him?”  
  
“I’m saying you need not contact the Ambassador regarding things I have already informed him about,” Sho says, voice flat.  
  
Nino gives him a look that’s part-amused and part-annoyed. “Why are you so difficult every time? Just say yes when you mean yes; it would make your life easier.” And mine, he thinks.  
  
“To repeat what you said to me a month or so ago, you didn’t bag a traditional one here, Ninomiya,” Sho replies, eyes dancing with amusement. It’s the closest to delight Nino has ever seen on him.  
  
Nino decides that he likes it. “If our marriage falls apart, it’s all on you,” he says in a fake hurt tone.  
  
“I often wonder if you hear yourself every time you open your mouth. And each time I seem to get proof that perhaps you don’t.”  
  
“Must you be so cruel, husband?” he asks as he smiles, fingers flicking over the holorecords currently open. He can flirt with Sho while continuing his readings; he has always been a multitasker. “Ilarians married us off and wished us prosperity before we left their planet. Don’t shatter their aspirations so soon.”  
  
“Ilarians also married us for love,” Sho says, and Nino swears he saw him roll his eyes for a fraction of a second there, “so I believe we’re on our way to disappointing them without too much effort. They wouldn’t like that, would they?”  
  
Nino grins. “Is that the sound of you somehow wanting to save this marriage? My, and I almost thought you’d divorce me for another.”  
  
“Are you saying you’re a keeper?”  
  
Nino places the back of his hand under his chin. “Have you seen my face?” he asks cockily.  
  
The corners of Sho’s mouth twitch. He doesn’t laugh or smile, but he’s close to it, Nino’s sure. “Very deceiving, if I may say so.”  
  
“One look at my face and people will know who’s at a disadvantage in this marriage.” Nino shakes his head as he quickly skims through some of the text he highlighted two cycles ago.  
  
He hears Sho’s noncommittal hum. “Does that mean you’re a Sakurai, then? Glad we finally settled that, _Ni-no_.”  
  
The holo is suddenly cut off, with Sho’s amused expression the last thing Nino sees. He can feel his ears burning at the teasing way Sho said his name, half-hating that Sho got the last word (again) and, yet, half-liking it.  
  
Nino doesn’t bother to contact Sho again. Instead he focuses on his readings, quietly chuckling to himself. He’d take the playful competitiveness over the tense rivalry any day. Now that Sho has given him a reason to make a comeback (and he will because not doing so is out of the question), maybe the Grenus mission would prove to be more interesting than what he originally thought.  
  
He grabs his own data pad and opens that list he made the first time Sho showed his dislike for him. It’s a short one and not arranged in any particular order, consisting of the things he wants to try once he manages to figure out what makes Sho tick, but he taps on the screen to add another:  
  
8\. Make him blush in front of everyone.  
  
As soon as he taps on the punctuation he can’t help snickering, already imagining how hilarious that one will be if he manages to do it.  
  
\--  
  
The scent of ozone is thick when the hatch finally opens, hydraulics roaring around his ears as the ramp lowers. There is the permeating odor of petrichor and it reminds Nino too much of Earth. The soil, however, is not the kind of loam he’s accustomed to seeing on Earth—colored red instead of brown, a mixture that contains more clay than sand and silt.  
  
The Grenu party that welcomes them consists of various town leaders, clad in colorful robes with hoods and wearing knee-high boots. They have no official ruler and their rules of governance vary from place to place. Thankfully, the arrangements for the welcome are happening in the nearest settlement, a short walk from the shuttle dropoff spot.  
  
The soles of Nino’s boots make a squishy noise with each step. The rain continues to pour and he pulls his hood back into place, not wanting water to drip down his face. Jun insisted on not using umbrellas since it might be a foreign concept to a species that has seen more rain than sun and is accustomed to getting wet.  
  
The scientist accompanying them is actually an anthropologist named Yoshitaka, a quirky woman a few years younger than Nino. They met on the hangar of the ship, just before the shuttle boarding, and the only word she said when Nino introduced himself is “sure”.  
  
Nino doesn’t know what to make of her yet, but she certainly looks very interested in their surroundings. She keeps looking and turning around as she walks, droplets of water spraying in random directions as they get caught on the edges of her cloak. She has already exchanged the traditional pleasantries with the Grenu on behalf of the away team, and Jun looked very proud of having her around.  
  
They come upon a large tent that is erected under tall trees, the thickness of the leaves on each providing a makeshift roof, sheltering them from the perpetual downpour. Inside the tent, the town leaders arrange themselves in a neat circle, gesturing for them to take a seat in the provided straw chairs, a massive table laid out between them. Grenus itself is a primitive dwarf planet, something Nino already gathered from his readings, but seeing it in person is another thing. For one, the Grenu looked interested in the way Jun’s away party carried themselves. Nino is grateful Jun had the foresight to tell them that they should leave their data pads in the shuttle and carry only their pocket-sized comms. The sheer curiosity in the Grenus’ eyes is unmistakable.  
  
“We speak standard,” one of them says when everybody has settled in. She has three buns at the top of her head, her hair akin to the color of their soil, only in lighter hues, leaning ginger. “And we welcome you, members of the Union.”  
  
Jun returns the greetings, expressing their desires to know more about the planet and the race inhabiting it. Since this is the first contact in the flesh, there are no expectations of alliances forming at the end of the visit. Grenus is more of a backwater planet anyway, far from known established civilizations and from the attention of the possible incoming warfare. Nino supposes this is the Union’s way of giving them shore leave while still doing their job.  
  
Jun eventually gives the floor to Yoshitaka, who cheerfully takes over by asking the Grenu questions about their planet that are absent from the Union’s databases. She begins the discussion on the planet’s features to break the ice, but eventually she jumps to the culture of the Grenu while Nino and the others observe her.  
  
Nino can’t hear the rain anymore but is certain of it still pouring down because of the scent. Beside him, he can see Jun looking at the faces of each Grenu, trying to commit them all to memory. Jun, of course, has his own qualms about the mission and despite him never disclosing any to Nino, Nino can figure out most of it on its own.  
  
For instance, the Grenu seem too welcoming.  
  
They seem overly eager in answering Yoshitaka’s queries, going into detail whenever she asks, but only when she asks. Nino notices it when Yoshitaka asked about their hairstyles, whether they follow a specific norm or not.  
  
The answer for that one was a curt “no” that they only elaborated on when Yoshitaka had a follow-up question.  
  
From the corner of his mouth, Nino mumbles, “Something doesn’t sit right with me here, Jun-kun.” He doesn’t dare whisper since they have no knowledge of the cultural taboos on the planet.  
  
“Funny, Sho-kun’s been saying the same thing for five minutes now,” Jun says, lips hardly moving and gaze fixed on the discussion happening before them.  
  
“They’re too accommodating,” Nino says, ignoring the unhelpful bit that Jun bothered to share with him. “Normally I’d be thankful, but with my hair wet and my shirt sleeves soaked, I can’t be.”  
  
“Sho-kun is telling me that it’s possible that they are only waiting for us to slip up,” Jun informs him.  
  
Nino schools his features to innocence, not wanting to alert the Grenu that they are suspicious of their hospitality. “I’m going to have to agree with him on that; they are really observing us despite looking almost like us, only paler.”  
  
There’s also something about their movements. They move too slowly, like they are being too cautious of something. It makes each motion less fluid, lacking in gracefulness and coming out forced, even robotic. Nino doesn’t voice out that observation though. He tells himself it’s him being paranoid (it won’t be the first time), but he can’t shake off the nagging feeling that Sho might be right.  
  
Yoshitaka eventually has to scribble all her observations in the notebook she brought (since all data pads were left in the shuttle with Aiba), pausing once in a while to hastily make note of what the Grenu are telling her. Their tone of voice when speaking remains friendly, their expression too, but Nino feels they are all merely waiting for one of them to crack.  
  
He begins to consider being the sacrificial member by trying out something outrageous, but then more people start entering the tent, carrying plates of food. Everything is made of either bamboo or leaves, and Nino can see nothing but green things on each plate aside from the occasional violet (grapes, he hopes) and red.  
  
“I guess meat is a no for this planet,” he mutters quietly so only Jun can hear him.  
  
There’s only Jun’s agreeing hum, and soon, they are being asked to eat.  
  
It’s then that Nino notices that only their side has plates of food laid before them.  
  
“I don’t like this,” he says through his teeth, taking care not to have his lips move. He turns to the sides and sees Sho’s face close to frowning (Nino can tell when he’s about to do that, having seen it multiple times since their meeting in the space station).  
  
“Would you not partake as well?” Jun asks, masking his distrust with curiosity, expression as innocent as he can manage.  
  
Behind Nino, he can feel Jun’s bodyguard Nagase already straightening. The atmosphere suddenly changes from light to tense, Jun’s question hanging awkwardly in the air.  
  
“In our culture,” the female with three buns on her hair says, “we welcome outsiders by providing them with a meal.”  
  
“In ours,” Jun says, “it’s a sign of companionship if we share a meal with others.”  
  
The Grenu’s eyes narrow for a fraction and Nino holds his breath, hating that his stomach is churning at the possibility of unprecedented things happening. She seems mildly amazed at Jun’s answer.  
  
Before she can open her mouth to say something (perhaps a question whether or not they trust the Grenus or not), Nino hears a distinct crunch to his left. He looks over and sees Sho eating, breaking the heavy atmosphere by doing as they asked.  
  
Nino can only stare him. If there’s something on the food...if they are merely waiting for an opportunity…  
  
“We thank you for this serving,” Sho says, keeping his tone light and appreciative.  
  
The town leaders in front of them nod in approval, pleased expressions on their faces. Sho resumes eating, shooting Nino one pointed look that clearly said he should do the same, and Nino takes a deep breath before following his example.  
  
If he dies because there’s something toxic for human consumption in the leaves and the unfamiliar fruits, he figures he’s going to meet Sho in the afterlife anyway. He’s going to strangle Sho then.  
  
The piece of spherical red fruit he’s currently chewing tastes like a mixture of tomato and lychee, sour at first and gradually turning sweet. It’s not unpleasant. From his periphery he sees Jun partaking, although he pointedly doesn’t touch the leaves that emit a rather strong aroma. It’s almost pungent and Nino tries to breathe through his mouth when he samples it. A little bitter and would be perfect with salt, but otherwise fine.  
  
Perhaps he was simply being paranoid.  
  
Sho gives praise about the food as they eat, detailing how the foreign taste remains palatable to his unfamiliar tongue. Nino wishes he could be as eloquent as him, seeing as Sho already has most of the leaders nodding in agreement with every compliment he says.  
  
“He could write an article regarding their food,” Nino mumbles, popping another piece of the red fruit in his mouth. “He describes it so well; you’d think he already read on it before.”  
  
“Are you swooning over him now?” Jun asks, hiding his smirk behind a crispy leaf that has minute pieces of crystalline particles sprinkled on it. Nino thought it was salt but upon closer inspection it seems like a natural part of the plant itself. “Of all occasions?”  
  
“I’m going to pretend I did not hear you say that,” Nino mutters. He catches the eye of one Grenu and he flashes his most appealing smile. “It’s really tasty despite being unknown until now. Thank you.”  
  
He receives an acknowledging nod and he turns back to his food, finishing what’s on his plate. Jun discreetly manages to pass the aromatic leaves to him since Sho manages to hold the attention of everyone with the way he talks. Nino begrudgingly eats those leaves as well, all the while pretending that he’s having the time of his life.  
  
“You’re quite spoiled, you know that?” he says when he manages to swallow the last of the bitter, odorous leaves.  
  
Jun lets out a tiny laugh, hiding it at the back of his hand. He looks proud of himself. “I can never deal with anything that is too pungent.”  
  
All of them manage to finish the meal almost at the same time, with Nino taking last sips of water as the attendants begin to clear everything away.  
  
A male Grenu with three piercings in each ear speaks this time. “After a meal, it is customary for us to exchange seats with the visitors.”  
  
“And what does that denote for Grenus?” Yoshitaka asks, her notebook already whipped out, her hand clutching a pen poised over it.  
  
“An extension of thanks after the gracious serving.”  
  
“Very well,” Jun answers, turning to each of them and giving the slightest tilt of his head, a wordless gesture for them to follow what he’s going to do.  
  
Jun stands and they all do, albeit the Grenus are slower. Jun immediately moves around the table for the swap of seats to be over as soon as possible. Nino tries to follow, but there’s a shuffle of movement close to him when he tries to get past Sho.  
  
Sho, in his haste, has the edge of his cloak trapped under his boot, and he notices too late. He stumbles, caught in his steps, and his first instinct is to reach out to steady himself.  
  
Nino, being the closest to him, is the one who gets Sho’s hand on his upper arm. He reacts instinctively, grabbing Sho’s other arm to help him right himself.  
  
“You okay?” Nino asks. At the back of his mind there is still the nagging fear that the food might be poisoned (he was never the trusting type) and this is some delayed effect he’s seeing. He hopes not. He’s not the praying type, but he’s going to pray for it if this turns out to be some nasty adverse effect of a healthful diet.  
  
“Yeah. Sorry,” is all Sho says, and Nino nods, grip on Sho slackening as Sho lets him go.  
  
It’s then that he notices everybody’s eyes on them. The Grenus are wide-eyed, some with their jaws hanging open, others with their hands over their mouths. They look...horrified, and Nino can only stare at them dumbly, unsure of what’s happening.  
  
He meets Jun’s panicked stare. “What’s going on now?” he says under his breath, and Jun can only shake his head, his expression confused. His face mirrors the shock and perplexity in Nino’s, and—when Nino checks—also in Sho’s.  
  
Yoshitaka seems curious, eyes darting left and right, notebook already open. Nagase and Matsuoka are both frowning and are standing beside Jun now, ready to do their part in case things turn for the worse.  
  
The female Grenu, the gingerhead, is the one who speaks. “Take him.”  
  
Nagase and Matsuoka immediately step in front of Jun, just as Jun orders the three of them—Nino, Sho, and Yoshitaka—to remain close to him. Nino does as he asked, but then he sees that the Grenus aren’t trying to get to Jun.  
  
They are trying to get to Sho.  
  
In fact, three of them already have their hands on him, dragging him away from their party.  
  
“Wait!” Sho protests, trying in vain to shrug the strong grip off him. By the time Nagase and Matsuoka catch on to what’s happening, Sho’s already away from them, closer to where most of the Grenu are.  
  
“Explain,” Jun says, stepping past his bodyguards. Nino has never seen him this angry. His jaw set, his brows knitted, his eyes focused on the female who gave the order.  
  
Sho is still trying to break free of the hold they have on him, demanding answers, but someone harshly tells him to stop speaking. Sho does, face creased in a displeased frown, and Nino’s stomach drops when he meets Sho’s terrified eyes.  
  
He has seen that look before, many times, many years ago.  
  
“Explain,” Jun demands again, breathing heavily. He is trying to calm himself but his hands are clenched in fists. Nagase and Matsuoka remain a step behind him, similar expressions of poorly concealed disapproval on their faces. Only Yoshitaka remains curious, like she’s awaiting the development of things.  
  
“He touched him,” the Grenu says, finally acquiescing. She points to Nino, and Nino gives her an incredulous look.  
  
“He was going to trip,” Nino says, stepping forward. He had to elbow Matsuoka to do so and he’s certain he’s going to hear about it once they’re back on the shuttle.  
  
If they are going to get back there.  
  
“He was going to fall down,” Nino continues. “I had to help him up.”  
  
The Grenu shakes her head fiercely. “He touched you.”  
  
Before Nino can ask what she meant, Yoshitaka beats him to it. “Is that taboo? And for what reason, if it is?”  
  
“Skin contact is forbidden,” one of the Grenus holding Sho back explains. Nino notices that they are holding Sho by the shoulders, his cloak draped over his arms so there’s no direct contact.  
  
Nino remembers where he touched Sho earlier, even the feel of it. “I touched him too,” he says, ignoring the sharp look Jun gives him and the reproachful one he receives from Sho. “On the arm. Skin to skin. Shouldn’t you haul me over there with him too?”  
  
“He touched you first,” Gingerhead clarifies. Nino’s past caring now, he’s going to call her the easiest name to remember. “For our kind, skin contact denotes advances.”  
  
Nino thinks his eyes might bulge out of his head, his eyebrows close to touching his hairline. That was it? An amplified version of sexual harassment? Is that why they are so careful with their movements? Somehow, Nino thinks, that explains a lot.  
  
Across the tent, Sho mirrors his shock, and when Nino checks, everyone in the away party has a similar expression save for Yoshitaka who’s grinning to herself as she scribbles on her notebook. Clearly she found that bit very interesting.  
  
“What are you going to do to him?” Jun asks, being the first one to recover. “Will you punish him over a cultural misunderstanding and an accident? Over an honest mistake?”  
  
“Yes,” Gingerhead says. Sho’s face has definitely begun to lose color now. Nino can sense Jun’s growing rage beside him.  
  
He puts his hand in front of Jun. “Let me take care of this,” he whispers, unsure of what he’s doing but thinking it’s the right thing to do. “If you get ahead of yourself, first contact fails. The Union will know, and while I know you had your experiences of missions failing, we can’t risk our only chance of welcome in this planet. They have constant communications with the Union. By the time you make your report, they would have already made theirs. You can’t get angry.”  
  
They exchange one look, then Jun relents with a stiff nod.  
  
“What’s his punishment then?” Nino asks, stepping in front of Jun. “If you are to punish him, what would it be? Exile? Imprisonment?” He sees Sho frowning at him with each word he says and he drops the worst possibility of all. “Execution?”  
  
“Imprisonment,” Gingerhead answers. “We have enough witnesses here.”  
  
Around her, the Grenus murmur in agreement.  
  
“Is there a way to get him out of it?” Nino asks, raising his voice so he can be heard over the whispers. The Grenus whisper loudly on account of skin contact being forbidden. “Surely there are cases in which skin contact is permitted.”  
  
For one, Nino doesn’t believe that skin contact doesn’t happen with this species. They’re humanoid. Procreation should be more or less the same, and Nino can’t really see that happening without any form of touching. The planet itself is primitive so Nino believes sperm banks are perhaps nonexistent, unheard of in this corner of the galaxy.  
  
Gingerhead appears to consider him. “There is one.” Her eyes narrow and Nino only meets her measuring stare with the same intensity. “If you are related to him, it can be allowed.” She scrunches her nose. “But to witness such a thing publicly…”  
  
Nino doesn’t dwell on the fact that she and her kind are scandalized by Sho having two left feet. “By blood?” he asks. “What relation are we talking about exactly?”  
  
The muscly Grenu holding Sho down answers. “By blood or by union.” His voice is gruff and he’s been giving Nino disgusted looks ever since the incident. “Yet such things should be kept private. To show it in front of many is a disgrace.”  
  
Nino hears Jun’s sharp inhale and he meets Sho’s stare, tilting his head. Sho looks hopeful now, the fear beginning to leave him. Nino’s certain they’re all thinking of the same thing.  
  
“Then I extend my humble apologies for this oversight,” Nino says in confidence now. Gingerhead eyes him warily and he smiles at her. “And I would like to request for your people to unhand my husband.”  
  
It’s the Grenus turn to be stunned now, and Nino wishes he can capture the moment.  
  
Gingerhead shoots him a distrustful look. “You lie.”  
  
“I most certainly am not,” Nino says calmly, taking a daring step forward. “We are married under Ilarian law, and since Ilari is an ally of the Union, the Union recognizes the marriage.” He inclines his head in Jun’s direction. “The Ambassador is considered as an Ilarian elder and has witnessed the ceremony himself.”  
  
“Surely you have heard of Ilari?” Jun asks, standing beside Nino now. “The Union has informed me that your kind has made contact with Ilarians before.”  
  
“We are familiar with those who hail from the Pegasi system,” Gingerhead acknowledges, her face scrunched in displeasure. “But we are not familiar with their laws. They come only in trading ships.” Being a mining planet, Grenus has invaluable metal ores that Ilari benefits from in the construction of their ships.  
  
“Should’ve let us bring a data pad,” Nino whispers to Jun.  
  
“Had I known I would have,” Jun murmurs. He faces Gingerhead again. “I am an Ilarian elder and my fellow elder officiated the matrimony. I was an acting witness, a requirement for the marriage to hold and be considered legal under Ilarian law. I saw it with my own eyes.”  
  
“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” the muscly one holding Sho asks. He doesn’t mask his rudeness and Nino sees Sho’s face darkening because of the blatant disrespect directed at Jun. He tries not to smile.  
  
“We ate your food,” Jun says calmly, stepping closer to them now. “We drank your water. We visited your planet. How many of you are in this tent right now? Fifteen, twenty? There are only six of us.” Jun waves his hand to gesture at their party. “And yet we came here, believing your kind would not cause us harm in any way. Have we not shown enough trust?”  
  
This one, Nino will hand over to Jun. Jun is using his diplomatic tone now and all eyes on the tent are on him. He stands in front of the Grenus with conviction and unyielding confidence, unafraid despite their number. He can hold an audience, and Nino can see Gingerhead realizing that.  
  
“If you truly don’t take my word for it, establish contact with Ilari. You said they are your trading partners. Contact them, give them my name. They are going to tell you the same,” Jun says, not without a hint of challenge.  
  
It takes a couple of agonizing seconds before Gingerhead’s face relaxes. “We will take your word for it. For now. However you may not leave the planet until Ilari confirms that you are one of their elders.”  
  
Jun only nods. “I accept.” He gestures towards Sho. “Will you let him go now?”  
  
“Wait,” the muscly one says, tightening his grip on Sho’s shoulder. He’s the one who looks most disbelieving of all. Sho winces in pain but he sticks to silence. “If you are not truly married to him—”  
  
“I am,” Sho says, his annoyance beginning to become visible. He held back for as long as he can, but the grimace he always directed at Nino is now focused at the Grenu surrounding him. “It’s an Ilarian custom to brush the inside of one’s wrists with their partner. We have done that.”  
  
The Grenu’s grip on Sho’s shoulder slackens, his mouth falling open in shock.  
  
“Bare wrists at that,” Nino adds, knowing that they must find it so scandalous. He resists the temptation to laugh at their horrified faces. “So if you can kindly let him go now, I would appreciate it. We’ve only been married recently and I would hate to be a widower so soon.”  
  
From his periphery he sees Jun’s grin broadening at that. The ones holding Sho reluctantly loosen their grips, with the muscly one being the last to let his hands fall to his sides. Sho rubs at his shoulder as he slowly walks back to their side, but he stands beside Nino this time.  
  
“I won’t touch you to annoy them, even though I think it’s going to be really hilarious and rewarding,” Nino says quietly. “Are you all right though?”  
  
“My shoulder hurts,” Sho complains, but Nino can hear the relief in his voice.  
  
Jun is watching them and when Sho gives him a reassuring nod, Jun looks at Gingerhead again. “If you can establish communications with Ilari now to clear this misunderstanding, it would be appreciated. The sooner this incident is behind us, the better. The Union has no wishes to cause offense nor leave an unfavorable lasting impression. I meant what I said before. We come in peace.”  
  
A female Grenu with long dark hair volunteers to contact Ilari. The rest continue watching their party cautiously, but Jun merely walks to the nearest chair and stands before it.  
  
“May I?” he asks politely, putting on that innocent expression once more.  
  
The native nearest to him nods and Jun takes a seat, feet crossed at the ankle. He beckons the rest of them to do the same and they follow, Nino taking a seat beside Sho, figuring they have to show that they are indeed what they claimed to be. To Jun’s left, Yoshitaka is hastily scribbling. Nagase and Matsuoka remain standing on their sides, acting as their protection in case another incident happens.  
  
As soon as the Grenu with dark hair returns and whispers in Gingerhead’s ear, Jun relaxes more in his seat.  
  
Gingerhead turns to them. “We deeply apologize, Ambassador. Ilari said you are indeed part of their council and considered an elder with the highest esteem.”  
  
“I am willing to forget this incident on account of your hospitality earlier. It was a misunderstanding, one that is always unwanted but prone to happen. As the Union learns more about your planet and your people, hopefully we can avoid the occurrence of such in the future,” Jun says, his tone friendly and patient now.  
  
The Grenus eventually take their seats after that, and Yoshitaka doesn’t waste any more time, asking about more cultural taboos. The Grenus answer her in detail, no longer withholding information, perhaps in their desire not to cause any more misinterpretations and as a sign of repentance.  
  
The cultural education continues on and is, honestly, too dull for Nino to focus on so he settles for half-listening and observing everyone in the room. He notices the muscly one holding Sho down earlier locked in a staring contest with his seatmate and he nudges Sho’s side with his elbow—taking care not to make contact with Sho’s bare arm—to get his attention for a brief moment.  
  
“That one doesn’t really like you,” Nino whispers. “Or maybe he really has the hots for you. That kind of stare usually means only two things.”  
  
Sho casts a sideways glance at him. “And now you’re staring him down as well.”  
  
“Just letting him know you’re off-limits in case it’s the latter,” Nino says, smiling a little when he sees a brush of color on Sho’s cheeks.  
  
When the Grenu is the one who breaks the stare, Nino hums contentedly and listens half-heartedly to the ongoing conversations around him.  
  
\--  
  
Yoshitaka is the one who fills in the gaps in the Union’s databases about the Grenus and the planet itself, to be proofread by Sho (who else) before it is submitted to Jun for approval. Nino knows because Jun had him make an incident report to back up their information, and he is currently typing with Sho working on his side.  
  
The contact with Grenus is considered as a success, a first for Jun with a planet that had no prior personal contact with the Union. After the lengthy cultural and political insight, the planet’s inhabitants compensated for the misunderstanding by throwing a parting feast, something Jun accepted graciously so as to placate the Grenus that the Union is truly willing to overlook the incident.  
  
A cycle and a half later, back on the ship, Nino finds himself joined by Sho in the observation deck, his own data pad tucked under his arm while Nino remains seated on the only bench in the room, his legs outstretched.  
  
“May I join you?” Sho asks then, and when Nino frowns, he immediately explains, “The Ambassador wished to make his report to the Union privately. I would head for the library, but the whole level is closed due to ongoing repairs in engineering.”  
  
Nino only shrugs then, swinging his legs down to make room for him.  
  
When Sho is finally seated, Nino tilts his chin towards the man’s data pad. “Is that Yuriko-chan’s report?” Their stay in Grenus allowed him to be more familiar with Yoshitaka, who is not as indecipherable as he originally thought. She had a quirkiness to her that Nino adores.  
  
“Yes. This will supplement the Ambassador’s personal report. The Union always requires a personal one from him and a written form from one of the members of the away party for crosschecking.”  
  
“They don’t trust Jun-kun to be truthful?” Nino scrunches his nose at that. He never had a favorable impression of the Union and its methods. It’s still a wonder to him that he’s working for them.  
  
“The Union likes to eliminate the possibility of biases,” Sho explains, patient in a way that Nino doesn’t understand. He can never understand Sho’s feelings about the organization. But then again, it’s not Sho who was once an inhabitant of Nyx VII.  
  
Nino raises an eyebrow at that claim. “But you’re the one who makes these written reports most of the time. You’re Jun-kun’s secretary. If they want to be rid of biases, they’re certainly overlooking your position in Jun-kun’s envoy.”  
  
“Ideally, the Union requires two reports to eliminate biases,” Sho rectifies. “Honestly, they just want to give the Ambassador more work. They don’t find diplomatic missions as exhausting as training missions.”  
  
Nino clicks his tongue. “Sometimes I think the Union is chasing after this war threat themselves. Like we’re just here as a formality, to show the enemy that we’re not doing what they are, but in reality we are.”  
  
Sho faces him with a curious expression. “And since when have you considered yourself part of the Union, Nino?”  
  
“Things get pretty weird the longer I stay in space,” Nino claims, daring Sho to challenge him. He looks down at his slippers. They used to be pure white and smelling like the refresher in his quarters, but now they have smudges of dirt on their sides. Proof that he has been using them long enough and that he has gotten accustomed to the material under his feet. “I don’t know when I finally accepted the fact that I am working for the Union, but somewhere in the past months, that happened.”  
  
Sho says nothing, and soon, Nino feels his stare. He turns. “What?”  
  
“I just thought you’d be more...angry, given the circumstances,” Sho says, uncertain.  
  
Nino scoffs. “What, over an incident that was twenty-something years ago? Don’t get me wrong, Sho-chan, I haven’t forgiven the incompetence of the Union for that. It’s the kind of thing that stays with a kid, and I was a kid back then. But I’m not a kid now, and the more I remain here, the longer I work for Jun-kun, the more I realize that maybe, at that time, chances were the wrong people were the ones in power.” He looks out and watches the stars, floating out there behind the thick glass panes of the deck. “I still hear it sometimes, you know. Before I go to sleep.”  
  
“Hear what?” Sho asks, his hands motionless over his data pad.  
  
“His voice. How he proclaimed it over the speakers placed all around the colony. Nyx VII was almost like Earth, did you know that?” He turns and sees Sho nod. “Yeah, I figured they would spend a paragraph or two describing how the place looked like before it all went to shit. How many theses and reports have you read about it, Sho-chan?”  
  
“Enough,” is all Sho says.  
  
“Do you want to know what incident reports can’t tell?” Nino says, gesturing to his own data pad. He’s past halfway to finishing his revisions, and soon he can hand it over to Jun. Incident reports are for Jun’s personal records, but Nino wants to preserve whatever high regard Jun seems to have for him.  
  
Sho only frowns in question and Nino gives him a small smile. “They don’t really tell you what it was like for the people who were there. The Union doesn’t want biases because they don’t want opinions, they want facts. And with facts, funnily enough, the ‘how it felt when it happened’ is omitted and the ‘how it happened’ part of the thing becomes the focus. In the end, it’s all for study purposes. A piece of history. Something to store in a library. It’s like it never really occurred at one point in time.”  
  
“Like it’s not real,” Sho says.  
  
Nino hums in agreement. “I hate these things,” he says, gesturing to the almost finished report on his pad. “I read some of these before I typed mine to get the hang of it, and of course I picked the ones that detailed the events in the final weeks of Nyx VII. They’re as impersonal as they can be, like a droid wrote it and it was simply some casualty that could have been prevented.”  
  
“But it could have been prevented,” Sho tells him, and Nino sighs.  
  
“Is that so?” He meets Sho’s eyes. “No one had any idea that an exotic fungus would grow on the crops and destroy them before we even realized it was there. No one had the power to predict that after a year and a half in the colony, we would all be on the brink of starvation.” He shakes his head. “No one thought he would declare such a thing,” he says, voice dropping in pitch.  
  
Nino exhales, willing his anger not to surface. A part of him still clings to that emotion. Doing so helped him survive. “But what did the papers say? The reports, the theses?”  
  
“That the lack of communication from the governor of Nyx VII is the reason help came too late,” Sho says, indulging him.  
  
“That they propose that in the future, off-world settlements should be asked to establish contact with the Union regularly to prevent such a thing from happening again,” Nino says. A laugh bubbles from his throat and he has no idea how it got there. “In the end, we were a thesis recommendation. A source of credits for any high-ranking officer thirsty for a promotion.”  
  
Sho falls silent and Nino can’t look at him. He might see it again, that look Sho gave him when Nino spoke about this the first time. He hates how the simple act of writing an incident report reminds him of many things, exposes him to truths he’d rather not know. When help came, he was already beginning to eat dirt and tree bark along with the other children. He was one of the oldest in the bunch at that time and the younger ones looked up to him. He kept them safe.  
  
He can still remember the cool rush of air from the thrusters hitting his face as the evacuation shuttles began landing. He couldn’t believe it. He thought he was going to die in the colony, then medical staff from the Union clad in white started running towards them, saving their lives. Whisking them away from the hell they all had willingly walked into.  
  
He hadn’t bothered to read the reports on the incident after a medical facility had cleared him and he was allowed to return to Earth. Nino thinks that reading them now, at his age, reveals nothing but insensitivity on the Union’s part. It’s a curious thing, that an organization whose main goal is to establish unity in the galaxy is deficient in something as simple as sympathy. He had been ten or eleven when it happened and his feelings hardly changed.  
  
But he works for them now, technically, since he is an interpreter for the ambassador. He powers on his data pad again and deletes a line that seemed more like an opinion to him. He undoes the omission and rereads the same sentence, then he sighs.  
  
“Sorry to impose,” he says, breaking the silence, “but would you mind looking over this one as well? I can’t decide if this is as impersonal as all Union reports are.”  
  
“I don’t mind,” Sho says in a reassuring tone, a first for him. Nino lifts his head. “You can send it to me when you’re done.”  
  
“Thanks,” Nino says, meaning it. He didn’t mean to talk about himself but Sho patiently listened. There was no judgment, only Sho paying attention.  
  
Sho shakes his head, dismissing it. “It’s all I can do.”  
  
It takes Nino a moment, but he catches on. “Payback for saving your life on Grenus, huh?” He keeps his tone light, switches back to teasing as best as he can.  
  
Sho gives him a look and he laughs, glad that they’re reverting back to the usual atmosphere between them. “Maybe I should put that here, that I saved Sakurai Sho from lifetime imprisonment by telling the Grenus that I am married to him.”  
  
“Go ahead,” Sho says challengingly. It makes Nino grin. “I’ll delete it anyway, and after that there will be no proof that I got out of it because you did that.”  
  
“You can say that all you want,” Nino dares, even scooting closer to show Sho his face, the undoubtedly irritating smile he has on. His report is for Jun’s eyes only, but he’s seriously considering adding unprofessional comments on it just to annoy Sho as he looks over the thing. “But _I_ sure kicked ass back there, saving your life.”  
  
“You’re annoying,” Sho says, turning to face him. This close, Nino can see the lines surrounding his eyes. He wonders if those would be prominent when Sho laughs. _If_ he can laugh.  
  
Nino smirks. “I’ve been told.”  
  
“Good,” Sho says, voice dropping to a whisper, then he closes the distance and kisses Nino.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s a testament to their professionalism that they don’t speak of it in the next cycles. It wasn’t a bad kiss—Nino would even admit that he enjoyed it (because he did kiss Sho back and they kept at it until they ran out of breath)—, it was simply unexpected. If ever he is confronted, he would deny that he finds Sakurai Sho attractive, even endearing at times. But since no one is asking, no denial is happening on his part.  
  
At least, Sho had the prudence to be spontaneous when the security personnel of the ship was preoccupied with observing the hyperdrive repairs on engineering. Nino confirmed it with Matsuoka (one of these days he’s going to use the nickname Aiba has for the man) that at that time, all security cameras were directed on engineering to oversee the repairs. No one had turned on the ones on the corridors and the observation deck, on account of it being the graveyard shift at the time.  
  
No one saw, and Nino was honestly thankful for that. Aiba had told him that bets were going on behind their backs, that since Grenus, people were wondering if their Ilarian marriage turned out to be a real one. Yuriko’s account of the incident only fanned the flames, and Nino doesn’t think he can deal with questions shoved in his face when he hasn’t figured things out for himself.  
  
He stands in front of the mirror in his refresher, fixing his hair after drying it off with a towel. He picks up his comb, its teeth digging a little in his palm as he tries to find his parting. When he does, he runs the edges of the comb through it and makes a clean cut, shoving strands where they belong. Doing something routine helps him think, and he starts questioning himself as he continues fiddling with his hair.  
  
He does find Sakurai Sho attractive, and weirdly enough, that’s not the terrifying thing about this. It’s also not the fact that Sho saw him as a rival and had this marked dislike for him in those first missions.  
  
It’s the reality that Nino has no idea where this is headed, and he doesn’t find the idea of flying blind entertaining. He’s been doing that all his life. He spent three days thinking before going “fuck it” and applying for a translator job because he had gotten sick of being a bar patron and part time bartender in clubs close to Earth’s spaceports. He got the job with zero interviews and found himself shipped to the space station two weeks later. And now he’s here, wasting precious minutes on his hair because he needs time to reconsider, reevaluate. He’s never been good at planning. He’s the “wing it” type.  
  
He hates how a part of him wants to think about it despite knowing nothing good will come out of thinking. His head is a scary place, even for him. He does spend time shushing his own thoughts when they become too much. His only consolation is the knowledge that Sho is the bigger thinker between them, and if he’s already lingering this much, how much more for Sho?  
  
When his hair is perfect according to his own standards (he does have to look presentable being an interpreter for Jun, who always looks more than presentable—Jun is dashing, arrestingly so, more often than what Nino believes to be necessary), he shakes his head at his own reflection. Jun is conducting a meeting in a few minutes, a peer evaluation of sorts given that they already had three missions. Since he will spearhead the event, there is that small comfort that maybe Jun won’t notice something.  
  
Not that there’s anything worthy of his attention, Nino thinks.  
  
He dresses up for the meeting quickly and makes his way to the conference room, passing by familiar faces currently on alpha shift. He nods in acknowledgement at some and returns the smiles of others before finally reaching the designated floor.  
  
The doors swoosh open to reveal Aiba who enthusiastically waves at him, and Nino takes a seat beside him.  
  
“Who else will be here?” he asks. He forgot to ask Sho, and that was because he was otherwise preoccupied. The kiss in the observation deck wasn’t the only one they shared these past cycles. It was the start of sneaking and seeing how much they can get away with for now, like they were teenagers again and afraid of discovery.  
  
“Everyone who’s been on a mission plus the bridge crew who has seen the transmission from Zura when we made contact,” Aiba answers, oblivious to his concerns. Nino prefers it that way. “Jun-chan likes to have everybody’s opinion so he makes time to hear what everyone has to say.”  
  
“I did notice that about him,” Nino says. Aiba is included in the meeting even if all he does is ferry the away party to the meetup places and bring them back to the ship. “How does he do it? If I were in his shoes I would have time for nothing else.”  
  
“And that’s why he has Sho-chan to plan everything for him,” Aiba says. Nino’s ears grow warmer at the name and he hopes Aiba doesn’t notice it.  
  
“That’s another job I would hate to have,” Nino comments, and Aiba laughs but agrees with him.  
  
“Well, I think you do like your job,” Aiba tells him, flashing him that blinding smile. He always smiles really big, like it can make flowers grow and cure the ailing. “I mean, it involves a lot of tongue, right?” Aiba’s eyebrows wiggle.  
  
It’s a pathetic joke, something Nino has made himself many cycles ago, but he can’t stop his face from coloring a little when he inevitably recalls the events of the past cycles. There _had been_ tongue involved, and certainly not in the way Aiba is thinking.  
  
He plays it cool by shrugging his shoulders as nonchalantly as he can manage. “I get to see more of space as a bonus so yeah, maybe I do like it a little bit.”  
  
He can feel Aiba’s gaze zero in on him. He pointedly ignores it, but then Aiba’s face gets so close to him that he’s probably counting Nino’s pores.  
  
“What?” he huffs, annoyed.  
  
“You’re hiding something from me, Kazu-kun,” Aiba says, accusatory finger repeatedly pointing at his face. Nino wills his expression not to betray anything. “Yeah, you are. I haven’t the slightest idea what it might be, but you are.”  
  
Nino hates Aiba’s exceptional ability to read through him. Aiba has been able to do that since they became roommates in the space station. The guy completely knows how to interpret his body language with frightening accuracy. Nino doesn’t need to utter a word and Aiba simply _knows_.  
  
He holds Aiba’s gaze for as long as he can, channeling impassiveness. Aiba grins. “Do I even want to know?”  
  
“Actually no,” Nino tells him. He’s tempted to outline how talented Sho’s tongue is versus his own, but he’d rather do it with beer or brandy in hand so he can see it all splatter on Aiba’s smug face as he drops the punchline.  
  
Aiba turns away, smiling to himself. “Maybe I placed my bets on the wrong side,” he mumbles to himself. “Leader’s going to win again.”  
  
Nino’s about to ask what he means when the doors slide open, revealing Jun who looks like he’d rather roll in bed than be here. Sho once told him that Jun isn’t a morning person, and seeing it always makes Nino smile. Sho is right at Jun’s heels, and his eyes immediately meet Nino’s across the room.  
  
Aiba’s sudden intake of breath from beside him breaks the spell, and Nino kicks him under the table.  
  
“Shut up,” Nino warns at the corner of his mouth.  
  
Aiba makes a zipping motion over his lips but his eyes tell Nino that he’s in for a lot of prodding. Nino’s positive he has to avoid Aiba for the upcoming cycles. The idiot will pester him for details because that’s how their friendship goes.  
  
They all move to stand up when Jun approaches his designated seat, and Jun just waves them off.  
  
“Most of you know the purpose of this meeting,” Jun says, then he gives Nino a brief nod. “But for those who are unfamiliar, this is where I listen to all concerns you might have now or might have had during the mission that weren’t addressed. I would also like your feedback on the past three missions we’ve had. Should it be necessary, I will relay your concerns to the Union in my next transmission with them.”  
  
Yuriko is the first one who speaks up, raising her hand. Jun only nods for her to proceed. “I’d like to request the inclusion of a scientist under my department for the subsequent missions. The Grenus mission proved to be educational for the anthropological community, and I believe with the inclusion of a researcher in the away parties, we can also improve on the existing articles and studies that the Union has about the other planets.”  
  
“I support that,” Nino says with the lift of his hand. “Yuriko-chan knew exactly how to talk to the Grenus even if they can only speak basic standard. If we have a scientist or an expert for every away team, we can also lessen the chances of a cultural misunderstanding occurring.”  
  
Jun nods. “Noted,” he says, and beside him Sho is already typing things on a data pad. “I will make the proposal to the Union as soon as possible.” He turns to Yuriko. “I commend you for your work on the Grenus mission.”  
  
Yuriko merely gives her thanks, and Jun proceeds with other concerns anybody else on the meeting might have. Personally, Nino has nothing noteworthy to add; most of the problems they encounter in each mission are rooted in their lack of understanding regarding practices, beliefs, and culture. As long as they work to address that in order to prevent it from happening, he’s good.  
  
He stays quiet through the rest of the meeting, sneaking glances once in a while at Jun’s hardworking secretary. He has caught Sho’s gaze for a few times, but thankfully everyone’s attention is on Jun so nobody really notices.  
  
Except Aiba.  
  
As soon the meeting concludes, Aiba wraps an arm around his shoulders and leads him all the way to the mess hall. They don’t exchange a word but Aiba has that happy, carefree smile on his face that warns Nino of the things to come. They stand in front of a replicator and Aiba keys in Nino’s favorite: hamburger steak with vegetables on the side because Aiba keeps looking out for him and is against his supposed unhealthful habits.  
  
Nino holds up a finger before Aiba can open his mouth.  
  
“For the record, Aiba-shi,” he says, keeping his voice down since the rest of the gamma shift are still having their meals in the mess, “I don’t kiss and tell.”  
  
Aiba grins so wide Nino believes his face must hurt. “So you did kiss him!”  
  
He smacks Aiba at the back of the head. “Shut up,” he hisses, looking around. No one appears to have heard them. “And keep your voice down.”  
  
Aiba has a hand over his mouth, like he’s trying to prevent himself from getting too excited. Which is useless in Nino’s opinion since the man is a ball of neverending energy. “Happily married now, huh?”  
  
“Fuck off,” Nino says, snatching a tray and dumping his replicated food on it.  
  
“So it’s fairly new? Oh man. You know that I betted on you and Sho-chan doing it behind our backs because I thought you were pretty smooth and all? That you must be laughing at us because you’ve been boning him the entire time and only putting on an act?” Aiba asks, sounding disappointed. He gives Nino this look that says ‘I trusted you’. “Oh-chan betted you haven’t gone that far. I guess that means he’s winning right now.”  
  
“You and Ohno-san need to find a better hobby,” Nino says, shaking his head at him. “Stop snooping on people’s married lives.”  
  
“And I told you, it’s such a small ship!” Aiba chuckles. “Isn’t it weird,” he says, keying in the code for a tuna sandwich in the replicator, “that you got hitched first before you started doing all this stuff?”  
  
Nino shrugs, looking for a vacant table. “Space is weird.”  
  
“Well, not as weird as actually liking what you didn’t intend to sign up for, right?” Aiba says, wrapping his arm around Nino’s shoulders again, his sandwich in his other hand.  
  
“No,” Nino says as they walk towards the nearest set of empty chairs, “not as weird as that, I guess.”  
  
\--  
  
The next time Nino finds himself pressed against Sho is also the first time he gets inside Sho’s quarters, when Jun apparently gave them a joint set of reading materials for the next mission. Nino believes that is something Sho just made up, that he thought of it himself and suggested to Jun that he’s going to need help. Jun would agree of course, because Sho does have work piling up, but that really doesn’t matter when Sho has him trapped right between his body and the wall next to the door.  
  
“Just so it’s out there,” Nino says, smiling, “I knew this would happen.”  
  
“Aiba-chan gave me a thumbs up and tried to wink at me four cycles ago,” Sho tells him, expression contemplative. “Mind explaining that?”  
  
“Am I here to talk about Aiba-shi with you or are you going to do what you planned to do?” Nino asks, raising an eyebrow, trying to look bored but utterly failing. They’re so close, and Nino’s very, very interested in the way Sho’s looking at him. The past few cycles kept them apart, with Sho conducting performance reviews for every department with Jun, Nino polishing his grammar and intonation for the languages he had lied about on his résumé. It never hurts to be prepared.  
  
“You’re so direct,” Sho says, face close to his, and Nino rolls his eyes.  
  
“I think you like that about me,” he breathes before giving in.  
  
They don’t share anything more than kisses though. Sho wants to take it slow, and it’s clear in the way he leaves Nino wanting more, pulling away before Nino’s contented, depriving him and looking smug each time. Nino figures that’s because Sho hasn’t done this in a while—Sho has been in space for years now, after all. He has zero problems with taking their time, really, because Sho has this mouth that he has long wondered how it would feel like against his own. It will take him some time to get used to having that so easily now.  
  
It turns out that Sho wasn’t lying about Jun giving them a job to do together, and when he finally extracts himself away from Nino, he gestures to the set of data pads on his desk. Nino groans.  
  
“You need to stop using your mouth to distract me,” Nino says dejectedly as Sho approaches the only seat in front of his desk and beckons him closer. He goes anyway, shaking his head all the while.  
  
“How else am I going to get you to do what I want?” Sho asks, already picking up a data pad and handing it to Nino.  
  
“Did I marry you for this? Does this truckload of work come with you all the time?” Nino asks, powering it on and finding the details for the next mission neatly outlined. Sho has been working hard. Nino smirks. No wonder he wanted a break.  
  
“I’m the Ambassador’s secretary,” Sho says, not without a hint of pride. “And what you’re seeing is not even half of it.”  
  
“Yeah, I figured,” Nino says, perching himself on the desk and spreading his legs so Sho’s right between them. He reads the first few lines and hears Sho powering up a data pad of his own. “I’d really hate to have your job,” he adds, shooting a look of distaste on the stack of unfinished work.  
  
“You’re not going to get it so no need to worry,” Sho tells him, not even looking up from what he’s typing.  
  
“Keep talking and I’ll see myself out,” Nino threatens.  
  
Sho thankfully stays silent at that, and for a long while there is nothing but the hum of the climate control in the room as they work through reading completed evaluation forms and familiarizing themselves with the next assignment. The Union is sending the _Masquerade_ to an industrial colony where a delegate of a coalition formed by the settlements close to the outer rim is waiting. It would take them nearly four weeks to reach their destination, which gives them ample time to prepare in Jun’s opinion. Maybe Jun thought Nino ought to be ready since it’s a colony they’re going to visit, and his last time on one was Nyx VII.  
  
When his position starts to hurt his back, he groans and stretches his limbs, cracks his neck joints. He winces when he twists his trunk, one hand going around to support his lower back as he does. He catches Sho shooting him a concerned look and he just shrugs.  
  
“I’ve had back pain since I hit thirty,” he explains. “I think it’s because I hardly saw the necessity to do anything back when I was on Earth.”  
  
Sho powers down his data pad, pinching his nasal bridge. Nino sneaks a glance at the chronometer perched at his left and sees that it’s almost time for gamma shift on the ship. It’s late, and they really shouldn’t be up at this hour. But for Sho staying up this late seems to be the norm.  
  
“What did you do while you were on Earth?” Sho asks him. They both need a break, and Nino can see that Sho’s eyes are hurting from looking at illuminated screens for hours.  
  
“Bartending when I felt like it,” Nino says, powering down his own data pad and balancing it carefully on his lap. “It was what mainly taught me the languages I know. I became fluent in Zuran through that job. I wasn’t very good at it though. The manager only kept me around because I entertained his patrons with card magic.” He smiles. “That, Sho-chan, I’m really good at.”  
  
“Did you bring cards with you here?”  
  
“No. I thought I’d have to look professional all the time.”  
  
There’s a ghost of a smile on Sho’s face before it disappears. Nino can’t take it anymore.  
  
“How come you don’t smile or laugh when I’m with you?” he asks. He’s been wondering about it from the moment they met. He has only seen Sho do it once, when Aiba cracked that joke about high salaries. In all their private moments together, though there haven’t been plenty of those so far, Sho never did it.  
  
Sho looks away, but Nino clicks his tongue. “None of that. Don’t evade me now.”  
  
“You’re really annoying,” Sho tells him, but it lacked bite. He sounds affectionate even.  
  
“And you like me, so come on, answer the question.”  
  
Sho sighs, and Nino waits as patiently as possible. Then Sho licks his lips, and Nino pretends to not have seen it. “We once went to a planet where smiling was taboo.”  
  
Nino nods. “Yeah, I remember Jun-kun telling me something about that. Not in detail though. He just mentioned it in passing once.”  
  
“Aiba-chan was part of the away team back then, because it was a planet that had aerial domes and we needed a shuttle to get to certain places. There was no one else the Ambassador would trust to pilot for us.”  
  
Nino snorts. “You call Jun-kun that even when you’re not on duty?”  
  
“If you let me finish, Nino, you’re going to understand why,” Sho says, raising an eyebrow at him.  
  
Nino raises his hands in surrender. “Okay.” He doesn’t apologize, knowing Sho doesn’t want to hear it. “Then?”  
  
“We didn’t know that they interpreted human smiles as feral,” Sho continues. “You know how Aiba-chan is. He tries to be friendly and accommodating to everyone. We needed fuel to make the return flight, and when we got it, he flashed me a thumbs up to indicate that we were good to go. I smiled, and suddenly they were all over us.”  
  
“Sounds like Grenus,” Nino says, but Sho shakes his head.  
  
“No. It’s very different from that. You see, they thought I was going to attack Aiba-chan.” Sho is no longer looking at him. “They thought I was going to harm him, not them. They flanked Aiba-chan on the sides and tried to protect him from me, and at that time none of us understood what was happening. I spoke their language, but all my words fell on deaf ears.”  
  
Nino suddenly wishes he had been there. He could’ve done something. The way Sho talks about it makes it seem like a memory of long ago, but it’s clear that he has never forgotten.  
  
“How did you get out of it?” Nino asks.  
  
“The Ambassador prostrated himself in front of them. It was considered as the act of humblest apology in their culture. He did it without hesitation as soon as he knew what was going on. They treated him as an honorary guest, and to see him doing that...” Sho trails off, staring at his hands now, which lay unmoving over the screen of his data pad. “He didn’t speak their tongue, but his actions got through them. As soon as the misunderstanding was cleared, we were all free to go.”  
  
Sho purses his lips. “I only smile in front of Aiba-chan because he worries that I never forgot the incident. I do it to tell him otherwise.”  
  
“You don’t do it in front of Jun-kun?”  
  
“Not as often as I should. I think he knows the truth behind it. I’ve been working for him for years. Besides, he did mention it to you.” Sho exhales. “That’s why I always call him Ambassador. I owe him, my life included on numerous occasions. That is not an exaggeration. So even if I end up doing many, many things for him, there’s not a single part of me that wants to complain. I will do anything he asks for.”  
  
Nino can only look at Sho, at this person Jun has on his side. Jun did say that he relies on Sho heavily, but Nino can see now that they attribute to each other the same amount of respect. Their relationship is more than just an Ambassador and his secretary. Jun protects the people working for him to the best of his ability; Sho always wants to be useful to him, to possibly repay him for all he’s done. Nino can’t help admiring them. He wonders if he can ever have so much respect for someone else.  
  
“If I ask you to smile for me now, would you do it?” he asks quietly after the silence that lingered between them. He keeps his tone light so if Sho wants to refuse, he can.  
  
“You’re not saying anything funny,” Sho tells him. “It would be odd if I did it out of the blue.”  
  
“I think you should laugh more,” Nino says honestly, reaching out to stroke the corner of Sho’s eye with his thumb. “You have these lines that I like looking at. I think it’ll suit you, and don’t you think it’s about time that you stop pretending for Aiba-shi?”  
  
“You said it once, that what you experienced on Nyx VII stayed with you as a kid,” Sho says carefully. He doesn’t shy away from Nino’s touch, and Nino likes how his warmth mingles with Sho’s. “Some things remain.”  
  
“How old were you when that happened?” Nino asks.  
  
“I was only a year into working for the Ambassador back then. He was twenty-five. I was twenty-six.”  
  
“I never asked how you came to work for Jun-kun.”  
  
There is a pause, as if Sho is contemplating what to say. Before Nino can give him a way out though, he opens his mouth. “I approached him and volunteered for the position myself. He wasn’t looking for an assistant at the time despite the urgency of hiring one. He claimed he was still adjusting to his job as Earth’s Ambassador and wouldn’t have time to personally guide an untrained secretary.”  
  
Nino frowns. “He said that to you?” It was hard to imagine.  
  
“The Ambassador of those days is very different from the man you know now. He has always been frank, the type to speak his mind, but it took him years to curb his tongue and phrase his thoughts in a more socially acceptable manner.” Sho shakes his head once. “I don’t hold it against him. He was telling the truth at the time. I had no prior experience before I went up to him.”  
  
“What made him take you in?” Nino assumes there hadn’t been much on Sho’s résumé, and from the way Sho put it, Jun never bothered to check his credentials.  
  
“He took one look at me and said to my face, ‘You are actually serious with your offer,’ as if he thought the opposite before. Then he told me to follow him and the next moment, I had a stack of data pads in my arms and a deadline of the entirety of the then-upcoming night cycle to finish everything in them.”  
  
Nino is a bit overwhelmed. “Why does he sound like the kind of boss I would hate to have?” Jun did say he is a difficult man to work for, but hearing it from Sho is another thing entirely.  
  
“It took him years to be more carefree, to loosen up, as you would likely put it,” Sho says. “But I approached him because I knew he is the kind of person I can put my faith in. That belief was reinforced when he asked for apology on my behalf, even though I had only worked for him for a year and often caused him frustration given my inexperience.”  
  
“And you’re thirty-four now and it’s been nearly a decade since that incident,” Nino points out, laughing a little at the way Sho scrunches his nose at the mention of his age. “You’re not getting any younger, but I’m not really asking you to start doing it immediately. But when something is funny, when you think it’s worth laughing over, do it. If you don’t want others to see, then don’t. If you feel comfortable enough to let someone witness it, go for it. Little by little, Sho-chan.”  
  
Sho inclines his head at him. “Is that how you handled yours?”  
  
Nino takes a deep breath, hand falling back on top of his data pad. He knows Sho meant the aftermath of Nyx VII. To be honest, of the two of them, Nino thinks it’s Sho who’s handling it better. It’s only been eight years for him. For Nino, it was twenty-two, close to twenty-three.  
  
“Some things remain,” he says, nodding. “That’s true. But I found out that while they do stick with you, your perception of them changes over time. I told you before, I was a kid then. I thought like a kid, I acted like a kid. I’m not a kid anymore, so it’s different now. The way of coping changes with it.”  
  
“How?” Sho asks, blinking at him.  
  
“Well, for instance, I actually decided to leave Earth.” He smiles. “It only took me, what, twenty-something years to do it, but I did it. In the end it doesn’t matter how long, at least I did it. I can’t say I’m good with all the things out here in space, but I’m seeing things differently now and hopefully it is for the better.” He meets Sho’s eyes. “You know I’m not the planning type, right?”  
  
“I gathered that the moment I read your résumé.” Sho’s eyes narrow at him. “You don’t really speak Elioni, do you?”  
  
Nino groans, throwing his head back in exaggeration. “Ah shit, don’t tell Jun-kun.”  
  
When he looks down again, he stops. There’s this lopsided smile on Sho’s face, the corner of his lips upturned, barely perceptible but their closeness allows Nino to see it.  
  
It’s a good look on him, Nino decides.  
  
“Seriously, don’t tell him,” he says, choosing not to point out that Sho’s gradually agreeing to his request. It thrills him that Sho is willing to try. “Elioni is one of those big-time languages so I thought it was going to give my résumé the attention it needed.”  
  
“It did get the Ambassador’s attention,” Sho says, looking amused now. “And mine. He had me sift through all the applicants and one of his requirements was someone who spoke not less than fifteen languages, in which a minimum of five must be spoken fluently.” Sho’s eyebrow quirks. “You had seven, I recall. At least you didn’t claim you’re fluent in Elioni. I had my suspicions when I read that bit on your résumé, but I didn’t know you then. How is it, really?”  
  
“My Elioni is shit,” Nino says, and he swears he’s not imagining things when he hears a snort from Sho—the tiniest hint of a laugh. “If you speak it to me I’m just going to stare at you, smile, and nod. I know the alphabet and I can syllabicate, but I can’t get the deep rumbling they do for each word. I sound like I dislocated my jaw and swallowed my tongue every time I try to do it.”  
  
The way Sho’s looking at him right now makes him feel warm despite the cool ambience of the room. “Anything else you lied about in your résumé?”  
  
Nino gives Sho this offended look, putting a hand over his heart. “How dare you. I didn’t lie. I merely exaggerated. There’s a difference.”  
  
Sho purses his lips. “All right. Anything else you _exaggerated_ about?”  
  
Nino smiles sweetly at him, leaning down so his face is somehow level with Sho’s. “Find out on your own. Isn’t it more fun that way?”  
  
“Never a dull time with you, husband?” Sho asks, already craning his neck.  
  
Nino pretends to think about it. “Never.”  
  
When Sho meets him halfway, Nino can feel him grinning against his mouth. He counts it as a small victory.  
  
\--  
  
Nino has no idea how his sister on Earth found out about his married status (because he’s under the impression that the Union doesn’t know it yet), but he wakes up to a transmission of her asking him to introduce his husband once the ship returns to the space station above Earth.  
  
He doesn’t even make the effort to reply. He marks the transmission as viewed and sends it straight to his junk folder, not wanting to see it again. She sounded more excited than him, so enthusiastic to meet her brother-in-law and Nino doesn’t know how to explain to her that he’s currently in the early stages of a relationship with said husband, that they are doing things in reverse. Aiba was right. It _is_ weird.  
  
Nino, despite his uncanny ability to detach himself from his surroundings, tries to put in a bit of effort of maintaining communications with his family. His sister didn’t come with him to the colony at that time. When he was thinking of joining the roster, he did it without his family’s knowledge, listing himself as an orphan out of his desires to escape his tormentors in the form of nasty children hellbent on making him feel sorry for himself. He desired to be independent. It turned out that it was too early for him to do such a thing, but who was to know at that time? If anything, Nino was grateful that none of his family members had joined him on Nyx VII. They would have undoubtedly died if they did. He survived because he had been a child at the time and the governor, somehow, despite his utter madness during the last weeks of the colony, decided to spare the children.  
  
Upon his return to Earth, his mother and sister cried at the sight of him. He was so detached at the time but he can remember their tears, the way they touched him as if he was going to disappear again. They didn’t chastise him for that impulsive decision that had changed his life, but Nino had no idea which he would prefer. In the end, he spent more than two decades on Earth jumping from one odd job to another until he decided to put his translation skills to use.  
  
That, he at least had the sensitivity to inform his family about. But he did it when he was on his way to the nearest spaceport, dropping a quick “I’m off to space to translate for some bigshot you guys probably don’t know, but my comm details are the same so you can holler whenever, I guess” for a parting note.  
  
He has been avoiding communication with his family ever since he and Sho started this thing, because he doesn’t want them to snoop so soon, not when he finally has something good. He had been a little cynical at the thought, but that’s likely caused by his unfortunate experience the last time he had been in space.  
  
But now that space comes with a high paying, rewarding job and a husband that he has a developing relationship with, he thinks he can begin liking it out here.  
  
Doesn’t mean his sister has to know though. He thinks he wants to keep this, and he has this unreasonable fear that if he talks about it, it might all go to shit afterwards. That was what had transpired the last time. He had been so excited over having a good life in the colony that he sent a transmission that said “Nyx VII is really worth it, I’m never coming back to Earth again!!!” to his sister. That message haunted him for years because of the possibilities it had entailed that he had no idea of back then.  
  
Besides, even if Nino wanted to say something, there’s nothing much he can tell his sister. He and Sho are taking it awfully slow, exchanging quick kisses every time Nino is in Sho’s quarters to help him with whatever pile of work he has left. When things grow a little heated, it’s Sho who pulls away first. Sometimes, because Nino is still insecure over a couple of things, he thinks it’s about him. Maybe Sho is not attracted enough that he can exercise restraint whenever they are pressed so close together. Being with Sho is addicting, because while he is still the polite asshole Nino has known since the day he saw the man’s back in the Ambassador’s level in the space station, in private, when all his attention is on Nino alone, he shows it with the way his hands roam, clutching everything, only stopping when he’s close to leaving marks.  
  
He makes Nino feel wanted, even if he’s always the first one who extracts himself before they both get carried away. Work, Sho always says, we have to work. Nino sometimes dislikes how they can never have a moment to themselves, but he thinks he himself is partly at fault there—he did hook up with the Ambassador’s secretary, the most sleep-deprived man on the ship.  
  
During the past cycles, he and Sho continue with the work Jun assigned them with, reviewing all available information about the colonies with members of said coalition. Jun commended their progress when Sho presented a preliminary report with Nino’s assistance in Jun’s office. Nino supplemented every time Sho missed a thing they had discussed beforehand, and by the end of the report, Jun had been giving him odd looks.  
  
Nino ignored them all.  
  
He’s lying comfortably on the couch in Sho’s quarters when he asks out of nowhere if Jun knows something. He doesn’t turn to look at Sho, fingers still typing on the data pad that is carefully balanced on his stomach. He’s finalizing a revision he overlooked.  
  
“What do you mean ‘something’?” Sho asks from his place in front of his desk. He never leaves that spot unless he’s feeling hungry or sleepy enough that he has to replicate either food or a strong dose of caffeine.  
  
“You know,” Nino says with a wave of his hand, not wanting to elaborate.  
  
“If his recently-hired translator is fraternizing with a crew member?”  
  
Nino rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you put it that way.” Then he reconsiders. “Actually, you are the only one who would put it that way. Are you really not half-android?”  
  
“Do I look like one to you?” Sho asks, peering at him curiously.  
  
“Well, I’ve never seen you naked so who can tell? Who knows if you’re all synthetic skin under those layers? Maybe if you remove your shirt I’m going to hear fans whirring to keep you from overheating or some gears grinding and devices beeping.” Nino gives Sho this meaningful look for a second before facing his data pad once more.  
  
“You know if that’s what you want,” Sho begins, and now he definitely has Nino’s attention, “you should simply ask.” There’s this rather mischievous look in Sho’s eyes. “Nicely, of course.”  
  
Nino laughs, shaking his head. He gets back to work. “You’re such an asshole. I’ve known that you are since day one, by the way.”  
  
“I’m only like that with you,” Sho points out.  
  
“Such sweet things you say,” Nino says airily. “You never answered my question.”  
  
“I never talk about private matters with the Ambassador,” Sho admits.  
  
“Yeah, I figured. And that’s because you don’t talk to anyone about private things, I know. But that’s because you don’t have to.”  
  
Sho has this puzzled look that makes Nino grin. “You’re quite transparent, Sho-chan. I have a talent for figuring out people without saying a word, but I’m sure Jun-kun knows more given your long history of working together. Plus, he keeps giving me these strange, almost knowing looks and I think it’s only a matter of time before he demands answers or starts dropping hints.”  
  
Sho frowns at that. “He won’t do that.” He pauses for a few moments. “On second thought…”  
  
Nino chuckles. “He does have access to everything on this ship, right?”  
  
“Yes. He has an override to everything—from door security to manual control of the entire ship, even replicator and database history. I think it’s only the hyperdrive that he doesn’t have access to.”  
  
“Ah he definitely knows then.” Nino points to the replicator near the wall. “I’ve been keying nothing but junk food ever since you allowed me inside your room.” Nino has memorized the codes for all available processed foods in the replicator memory banks. “I think he knows. Jun-kun’s really smart when it comes to subtle prying.” Aiba can learn a thing or two from Jun, Nino thinks. Every time he sees Aiba in the halls of the ship, the pilot never fails to ask if he and Sho ‘already consummated’ their marriage, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.  
  
Truthfully, Nino is impressed Aiba knows the word consummated.  
  
Sho remains silent for a while, then Nino hears him ask, “Do you mind if he knows?”  
  
Nino faces Sho, frowning at him. “Do I look like the type who would mind if my boss finds out I’m—” he’s blanking out a little, they’re not fucking yet and there’s no other name for what they have aside from trysts occurring in frequency, “—with his secretary? We’re _married_. Everyone in this ship thinks we’re sleeping together. What difference does it make?”  
  
He sees Sho licking his lips. “The difference,” he says, and Nino notes how his voice dropped to a low and meaningful timbre, “is that we are not.” He inclines his head to the side. “Yet.”  
  
“Well that’s comforting,” Nino says, ignoring the warmth pooling on his cheeks. His pale complexion is more honest than he will ever be. “I thought you had zero intentions of inviting me to your bed. It’s good to know that you have that planned at least. Will you even tell me when?”  
  
Sho doesn’t say anything, only looks at him with such intensity and focus that Nino has to power down his data pad and glare at him.  
  
“Fuck, you really want to play this now?” he asks, incredulous. There are three data pads left on Sho’s desk—three performance reviews he has to audit that he asked for Nino’s help on. They saved the engineering, bridge, and maintenance reviews for last because those are always the longest and most meticulous.  
  
“What time is your next shift, Nino?” Sho asks, and he’s still using that deep voice that makes Nino’s insides burn, veins alight with lust.  
  
“I have to meet Ohno-san for certain adjustments to the replicator in my room,” he says, squinting at the nearest chronometer. “That’s...more than twelve hours from now.” He finally convinced Ohno to tweak at the miso soup coding. He can’t make the man wait outside his quarters. Ohno is definitely the type who would leave if Nino didn’t open his door in less than twenty seconds.  
  
He gives Sho a warning look. “Don’t make me late.”  
  
“Does that mean I have your complete, undivided attention for more than twelve hours?” Sho asks. He has abandoned his data pad, turning his chair around to face Nino, his legs crossed. Nino hates how he looks so proud of himself.  
  
And good. Sho looks really good in that dark blue sweater he chose to wear tonight. Nino is in his private clothes too: a faded t-shirt that has the word ‘sushi’ on it and a drawing of curry underneath. It made Sho smile a little when he first saw it.  
  
“It means,” Nino says, putting the data pad aside (to the nearest flat surface because he doesn’t want to drop it) and swinging his legs down to sit on the couch with his legs spread, “that the clock is ticking, and if we’re really doing this, it would work better if you’re closer to me.”  
  
Sho hums in mock thought and Nino lets out a laugh at his antics.  
  
“You’re such a dick,” he accuses.  
  
“You’re not being nice,” Sho says, and Nino picks up the throw pillow on his left and chucks it in Sho’s direction. It hits him square on the chest, and when he meets Sho’s gaze, he knows he definitely did the right thing; Sho’s eyes are darker now, and Nino tilts his head in challenge.  
  
When Sho still doesn’t make a move, Nino’s patience wears thin. He reaches for the hem of his shirt, silently wishing he wore something with buttons; it would be more seductive and definitely get his point across.  
  
But he has to make do. He runs his fingers over and over the stitching before he starts to slowly pull it up, gradually revealing skin. Maybe he should start spending time on the ship’s recreation halls—if he had this really toned, shredded stomach worth bragging about then he would no longer be sitting here alone.  
  
But then again, he must look just fine in Sho’s eyes, because he can feel Sho’s heated gaze following the movement of his hands. He hikes his shirt up to his torso, hem resting right under his nipples, then he throws Sho this exasperated look.  
  
“Come here.”  
  
Sho doesn’t need to be told twice, a fact that Nino’s glad for, because he immediately gets up from his chair and approaches Nino in two hasty strides. He’s already discarding his sweater aside, and Nino only manages a cocky grin before Sho descends on him, mouth eager and demanding.  
  
It’s a tight fit on the couch and it takes them a couple of tries to figure out where their limbs should go, but eventually Sho maneuvers them so Nino’s entire body is perfectly trapped under his own, his legs on either side of Nino’s hips. Sho’s hands waste no time, his palms already mapping Nino’s stomach, making Nino jolt under his touch and moan against his lips, the sound lost in each kiss they share.  
  
Sho pulls away to help him pull his shirt off, and they discard it together somewhere on Sho’s floor. Nino couldn’t care any less, not when Sho’s mouth attaches itself to his jaw and starts tasting him there.  
  
He cards his fingers through Sho’s hair and shuts his eyes as he pushes Sho’s face closer to his skin. It’s starting to get warm in the room now, and Nino orders for the lights to dim in quickened breaths.  
  
He can feel Sho smirking against his neck at that before he sucks at the pulse, making Nino draw in a sharp breath, body involuntarily bucking back, wanting more, just more. It’s been a while for him, and with the way Sho’s trying to touch and taste everything, Nino can tell that it’s been longer for Sho’s case.  
  
He wants to do something about that.  
  
Sho begins moving lower, dropping quick kisses to the ridges formed by his throat, the dip formed by his collarbones, down to his breastbone. Nino only presses himself closer to him, curving his spine, head thrown back and mouth open in a silent, wordless cry.  
  
A tongue flicks over one of his nipples and he hisses, just as Sho reaches up to trap the other one between his fingers. Nino can feel himself considerably harden at the attention Sho’s giving him, with every touch being done deliberately and every kiss delivered with purpose.  
  
He lets out a quiet uninhibited moan when Sho’s plump lips close over his nipple and starts sucking while his fingers playfully pinch the other. He must have said something like Sho’s name because he seems to have encouraged Sho, teeth now running over certain patches of flesh, his tongue giving soothing licks afterwards. Sho’s knee finds its way in between Nino’s thighs and Nino can’t help bucking back, pressing his erection against Sho’s thigh.  
  
Sho’s personal comm beeps with an incoming transmission and they both freeze, Nino with his hands firmly grasping Sho’s shoulders, Sho with his mouth hovering over Nino’s heart.  
  
“Sho-kun,” Jun says in a voice transmission, and Nino groans, banging his head repeatedly against the couch, shutting his eyes in frustration. “My office, now. The Union has finally approved my request for shore leave after the colony visit and I want you to verify all the copies of the request form I printed out with the original ones you kept before we inform the rest of the crew about it.”  
  
The transmission ends after that and Nino opens his eyes, staring disbelievingly at the ceiling.  
  
“I hate him,” he says, meaning every word. “I fucking hate him.”  
  
Sho’s weight slumps against him, his face buried on Nino’s chest.  
  
“And I fucking hate you too. What, you don’t put his transmissions on hold if you can’t answer them? He’s set on automatic play?!”  
  
Sho moves up to slot his face in the junction formed by Nino’s neck and shoulder. Nino can feel him inhaling his scent. “He’s my boss. Anytime he needs me, I have to be there,” Sho mutters, voice still husky.  
  
“Yeah, and that’s why I hate him,” Nino says, the back of his hand resting over his eyes as he clicks his tongue repeatedly. “I am never going to forgive him. Matsumoto ‘certified erection killer’ Jun.”  
  
There’s a puff of air against his jaw, and Nino takes comfort in the fact that Sho is currently chuckling against his neck, a deep, rumbling sound of amusement that he wants to hear again and again.  
  
“We are never doing this with work in the way,” Nino vows, and he feels Sho press a lingering kiss to the angle of his jaw. “Never again. I don’t want to hear Jun-kun’s voice the day my mouth is on you. I might actually kill him if that happens.”  
  
Sho is laughing now, shoulders shaking and breath coming out in gasps. Nino wishes he can see his face, the lines that must be surrounding his eyes as he quakes in undeniable mirth.  
  
“I don’t think I have read about anyone in space dying of blue balls,” Sho says unhelpfully.  
  
Nino pinches Sho’s side lightly. “Just go. He’s waiting, the biggest cockblock in the universe.”  
  
Sho obeys, moving off him and picking up their discarded clothes off the floor. They tug their clothes back on in silence, though Nino still keeps shaking his head in disappointment.  
  
“My hair look okay?” Sho asks, blinking at him. He is disheveled—hair tousled and lips swollen—and he has _no idea_. The sight of it is so endearing that Nino pulls him in for a quick peck.  
  
“No. Take a quick trip to the refresher before you go.”  
  
Sho does, spending a few seconds running a comb through the hair Nino made a mess of. Nino picks up the forgotten data pad and stalks towards Sho’s bed, plopping himself on it with little grace.  
  
When Sho emerges, he looks around in confusion and Nino calls out to him.  
  
“I’m going to sleep on your bed and you can’t make me leave,” he says, crossing his legs under him as the data pad reboots and illuminates his face. “Not after everything you put me through tonight.”  
  
“I would actually hate to see you leave,” Sho says sincerely, feet already moving towards the exit. “Especially after tonight.”  
  
“Oh, get out of here already,” Nino says, shooing him with a wave of his hand. He contents himself with following the curve formed by Sho’s ass with his eyes, something Sho’s loose baggy sweats are unable to hide.  
  
Sho finally makes his way out, doors swooshing shut behind him, and Nino whistles before shaking his head, turning his attention back on the data pad in his hands.  
  
\--  
  
He ends up meeting Ohno in the corridor right outside his quarters in the early hours of the day cycle, and Ohno looks genuinely surprised to see him outside, his finger already hovering over the console to buzz him.  
  
“Why are you—” Ohno begins, then he seems to realize something, because the next thing he says is “well, I guess Aiba-chan’s beliefs aren’t as unfounded as I thought,” mostly to himself.  
  
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Nino says, keying in his security code. They both step inside as soon as the doors open, and he leads Ohno to where the replicator is. “It’s too early for this.”  
  
“You’re the one who wanted me to make changes to the miso soup programming,” Ohno points out, not even remotely apologetic. “But if you’d rather be in Sho-kun’s room right now, I can take a hint.”  
  
Nino is a little late because he did sleep in Sho’s bed. He was already asleep by the time Sho came back from his impromptu meeting with Jun, and when the chronometer reminded him of his appointment with Ohno, he woke up with Sho’s arm wrapped around his middle, Sho not wanting him to go just yet.  
  
He glares at Ohno and the man just picks his nose with his pinky.  
  
“One day I’m going to airlock you and Aiba,” he threatens, leaning against the wall as Ohno crouches down to begin removing the plating on his replicator. “Together. Without any protective suit or gear.”  
  
“Harsh,” is all Ohno says. He’s pulling out instruments from the waist pouch he’s wearing, laying them neatly on the floor. Ohno doesn’t say anything else and Nino just observes him as he starts working, deft hands moving with practiced ease. Ohno doesn’t bother to converse with him and Nino finds the occasional clink of tools against his replicator a little soothing.  
  
He walks back to his desk, picking up a discarded holorecord about eugenics theory and controlled breeding to improve society. He only heard of it once, back when the governor was declaring their fates through the speakers, but when he finally had the courage to look more into it, Sho asked him to come over and he couldn’t say no.  
  
He glances at Ohno once, finding the man frowning at his replicator as he unhooks some intricate wiring, and when he’s sure that Ohno is currently someplace else, he sets the holorecord down and hits play.  
  
The holorecord is about 45 minutes long and he listens to it without doing anything else, just sitting on his desk with his back straight, eyes fixed on a spot on the table surface. He focuses on the words of the narrator, at the emphasized text bits he’s seeing every now and then as the discussion goes on.  
  
The speaker is carefully outlining the cores of improving the genetic quality of any given population, and Nino feels he’s getting a glimpse of what was in the governor’s head at the time. He made the resounding declaration of executing half of the colony’s population based on his own theory of eugenics, with the exception of the children. Most adults in the colony that Nino had come to know were all put in front of a firing squad in order to save whatever was left of their food stock. It had been a horrific thing to hear. He didn’t see it happen, only heard the deafening rain of gunfire, the screams that were silenced. He had already been hiding away with the other kids when they began the executions.  
  
After that, there was the smell. The smell of bloodshed and fire, of thick smoke looming over the cliffs in tall, black clouds. The scent of famine, death, and lost hope was everywhere, but there was also the feeling of resistance in the air. He was alive, hiding with the other kids, lying to them to save them in any way he could. The fact that he was alive was something he held on to.  
  
Then the Union came with their emergency shuttles, a few days too late, but still. Nino was saved. He never heard from any of the kids he had looked after ever again. Maybe they all put Nyx VII behind them. Maybe some of them don’t even remember it anymore.  
  
Ohno only disturbed him once with a light tap on his shoulder to ask for his specifications regarding the saltiness of the miso soup programming. The more he gathers, the more he is convinced that the governor was a madman. The Union had the governor locked up in an asylum for life, no visitors allowed. As the holorecord continues to play, Nino begins to feel that maybe the governor got what he deserved. People back then rallied for him to be put to death, but the Union was never in favor of capital punishment. For Nino, as long as he is locked away in an obscure part of space, it’s good. Space is big enough anyway. He doesn’t need to be exceptional at math to know that the possibilities of the man escaping and crossing paths with him are close to nothing.  
  
He pauses the holorecord with determined fingers, sees that he has only managed to finish 28 minutes of it. He takes a deep breath followed by another, remembering his colors. Blue, green, brown. Again. And again.  
  
Then he picks up the holorecord and walks towards the nearest recycler, not hesitating when he drops it inside. The crunch he hears as the thing gets compacted is satisfying, and he exhales before walking away.  
  
Ohno is looking at him with a puzzled expression, and Nino only smiles at the engineer.  
  
“What was that?” Ohno asks, expression genuinely curious. He doesn’t seem to be concerned about Nino’s behavior, and Nino thinks that’s a good thing.  
  
“Burning bridges,” Nino says. It’s the most suitable explanation he can think of. He has been carrying his questions, doubts, and fears for almost twenty-three years. He returned to space to find out some of the answers for himself, and now that they are within reach, he realizes that they don’t matter anymore. It’s all behind him. It has always been behind him—it’s just that he keeps looking back.  
  
It’s time to let it all go.  
  
Ohno only nods, then he holds out his hand, a bowl of replicated miso soup in it. It’s steaming hot, spring onions floating on the surface, and the only way Ohno can hold on to it for so long is because he has calloused fingertips from his days as an engineer.  
  
Nino carefully takes the bowl from him with both hands and takes a demure sip, licking his lips to obtain a better grasp of the taste.  
  
Ohno tilts his head in question, an uncertain smile on his face.  
  
Nino grins at him, raising the bowl slightly in toast. “Thanks, Oh-chan.”  
  
The miso soup tastes better today.


	5. Chapter 5

The delegate waiting for them in the colony of Zion IX is a human female named Ayase Haruka, who has done nothing but confuse them all ever since their meeting. The settlements on Zion IX are as advanced as Earth’s technology—hovercars and hovermotors are flying in all directions, a couple of aerial domes already erected to house the entry and exit of passenger and cargo shuttles.  
  
Ayase welcomed them to her own place in the colony, an urbanized shelter that she shares with the members of her team. Jun’s job is to discuss with her anything she might want to rely to the Union, from funding to invitations for colonists to pay them a visit.  
  
So far, all she has done is laugh at the most unexpected moments, and Nino is a little perplexed at her behavior, but not as much as Jun is. Jun is close to frowning, and Nino has to bite his lip to prevent himself from laughing at Jun’s reactions.  
  
“I’m sorry, Ambassador,” Ayase says, wiping at the tear caught on her lashes. “I just recalled this joke I heard on the holoprogram earlier.” She breaks into another fit again, and Nino can’t help finding her odd, but in a good kind of way.  
  
Jun’s expression is a mirror of Sho’s, and Nino wants to laugh at them both. For his part, Sho is merely blinking at Ayase in confusion, and Nino thinks he’s the only one who finds her quirkiness amusing as of the moment. For Nino, it’s like she is the louder counterpart of Yuriko.  
  
“Ayase-san,” Jun says calmly, but Nino knows he’s exerting effort for it to remain that way, “the Union merely wishes for me to verify the security of the diplomatic ties they have with their own colonies. If you have any pressing matters that require immediate attention, please let me know.”  
  
Ayase cups her chin under both hands and plops her elbows on the desk between her and Jun, smiling all the while. “The only concerns we have are regarding the Union’s concerns for us. Surely there are those which you are here to tell me about?”  
  
“Communications,” Jun says immediately. When Ayase tilts her head in confusion, Jun holds up his hand. “The Union receives regular communication from all colonies which are members of the coalition, that is true, and they extend their commendation and felicitation for your vigilance in maintaining that. However, they have informed me that they rarely get word about planned improvements in each colony. They said that most of the time, you only inform them of it when the process is complete.”  
  
Ayase laughs, a rather happy chuckle that brightens up her pretty face. “I am at fault there, Ambassador. You see, since I’m the delegate, it’s also up to me to talk to the people we need to talk to in order to procure supplies for such improvements.” She leans forward, cupping the side of her mouth to whisper, “Those suppliers are not very nice most of the time.”  
  
“I see,” Jun says conversationally.  
  
Ayase doesn’t appear to notice anything. She just nods as if Jun agreed with her completely. “So when we negotiate, it happens back and forth and keeps going on until the process is finished. That’s the only time I remember that I should have informed the Union about it.” She smiles. “But then again, better late than never, right?”  
  
“I suppose. It’s better that the Union gets to hear about it than not at all.” Jun straightens in his seat and looks around, at the people in Ayase’s team. “But if I can give a suggestion, you can use an assistant, Ayase-san. Someone who can keep track of all you have to do for you. I imagine that your duties are not so foreign in comparison with mine.”  
  
Ayase hums in consideration, and she looks at everyone in Jun’s team. There’s only Nino and Sho standing behind Jun, because Jun’s trusted bodyguards are waiting at the port right outside the veranda with Aiba. Jun felt no need to bring them along, seeing as Ayase’s shelter is one of the most heavily guarded facilities in Zion IX.  
  
“Which one of you is the secretary?” Ayase asks, darting glances between him and Sho, and Nino points to Sho with his thumb.  
  
“I’m just a secondary translator,” Nino supplies.  
  
“I keep him around because he’s quick on his feet,” Jun says.  
  
“I think I can use that,” Ayase says, nodding. “If I remember to appoint one, that is.” She giggles. “I’m fairly forgetful and I get distracted quite easily.”  
  
“I’ve noticed,” Jun tells her, and it ends in a laugh when Ayase outright chuckles.  
  
The rest of the meeting proceeds with Jun asking for details about the progress of each colony in the coalition. He seems to have gotten accustomed to Ayase’s spontaneous behavior, patiently asking and clarifying things with her. Nino, for the most part, is left to admire the view outside, looking out to the skies and following certain hovercars with his eyes. Zion IX is as advanced as Earth, truly one of the most contemporary colonies out there. It’s a wonder they are so far from Earth itself, finding prosperity close to the outer rim of the Delta Quadrant.  
  
When the discussion concludes, Jun gives Ayase a firm handshake and promises to relay everything he has learned of in the past hours to the Union with as much honesty as he can manage. Nino translates that as Jun-speak for “I like you and so I won’t inform the Union that you often forget to tell them things because that quality makes you you”. He’s not just a literal translator, after all.  
  
As soon as they are back on the shuttle and on their return flight to the _Masquerade_ , Nino, from his seat across Jun’s, says, “You liked her.”  
  
Jun faces him with amused eyes. “What gave you that impression?”  
  
Nino shrugs. “I don’t know, Jun-kun, but we’re almost seven months into this whole mission and this is the first time you didn’t decide to sleep on the return flight.”  
  
“The Ambassador does opt for a nap when he had a long, trying day,” Sho adds. He is a chair apart from Nino, hands clasped neatly over his seatbelt. Sho has never been comfortable with the take off part of flying no matter how steady Aiba’s hands are. Acrophobia, he admitted to Nino once, and Nino never forgot ever since.  
  
“I initially found her rather peculiar,” Jun says, leaning back against the headrest, “but that was revealed to be a nice change from people of high authority ready to question every word that comes out of my mouth.”  
  
Nino can sympathize on that—Ilari had been exhausting because of the festivities, the Zuran monarch was a challenge from beginning to end, and the Grenus incident certainly gave all of them a tough time.  
  
“By the way,” Nino asks, lowering his voice, “does the Union know that…” He trails off, gestures to Sho with a tilt of his head. “That he and I…?”  
  
The grin that breaks onto Jun’s face has Nino clutching at the armrests on his sides. “I have said that I had no intentions of informing the Union about it.”  
  
“‘Had’?” Nino and Sho ask at the same time.  
  
But Jun ignores them, sighing dramatically. “You—” he points to Nino, “—have cleverly left out the part in which you saved Sho-kun’s life by claiming you are indeed his husband, yes, but Yoshitaka-san has enumerated all possible situations in which skin contact would be acceptable for their kind. Can you imagine the difficulty you have given me, all because you would rather not inform the Union of your marital status?”  
  
“Wait,” Nino says, shaking his head. “Does the Union know or not?”  
  
“Not explicitly,” Jun replies, flashing them that innocent expression. “But I may have used my override to update your profiles during the recent update on performance reviews.”  
  
Sho’s eyes widen, and Jun turns to him. “Oh Sho-kun, I thought you would have seen it already.”  
  
“I was,” Sho tries, not quite managing it, “I was, uh.”  
  
Jun raises his hand. “I would rather not know.” He meets Nino’s eyes and smiles at Nino’s disbelieving expression. “Didn’t you receive a transmission from back home some days ago?”  
  
“I did,” Nino says. He can sense Sho looking at him. “My sister asked me to introduce my, and I quote, ‘husband as soon as we make the return trip to the planet because he is a new addition to the family’.” He can’t help rolling his eyes. “So that’s it? She saw my updated profile?”  
  
“Perhaps,” Jun says. “Any quick information about all members of my peace envoy are accessible to the public, but the statuses of each individual are only accessible to the immediate families. That means your family is looking out for you wherever you might be.”  
  
Sho tenses beside him, and Nino shoots him a worried glance.  
  
But Jun merely gives Sho this nod, and Sho visibly relaxes.  
  
“All right, don’t tell me about it,” Nino says, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
“I’m not in the position to say anything,” Jun informs him. “I would rather not have you two engage in a discussion right now.”  
  
“I’m not going to have a fight with him, Jun-kun, relax,” Nino says. “Look, Sho-chan, I’m totally cool about it, okay? I didn’t tell you about the transmission so we’re quits.” He’s not lying or exaggerating—Nino thinks he and Sho can allow themselves little secrets that they might choose to talk about someday when they’re both ready.  
  
“I would assume annulment is out of the question now?” Jun inquires, looking amused.  
  
“Sometimes I forget that you were our witness and instigator,” Nino tells him. “You were happier about this marriage more than anybody else.”  
  
“And look at you now,” Jun points out, spreading his palms for effect. “Sho-kun doesn’t look too much of a reanimated corpse lately despite the same amount of work being handed to him, and I think I can piece together why.” He holds out his palm and Sho immediately hands Jun’s data pad to him. “Which reminds me, I should make the announcement.”  
  
Nino pretends he doesn’t know a thing. “Announcement?”  
  
“Good news for everyone on the ship,” Jun murmurs, fingers working briskly, and soon, everybody’s personal comms beep with an incoming message.  
  
Jun gestures for him to check his and he does, and he tries his best to look pleased about it despite already knowing what it is. Shore leave announcement, lasting for three days in the highly urbanized planet called Aeris. Shore leave for three days, finally approved by the Union. It was Jun’s cockblocking message, how can Nino forget?  
  
Jun’s message also tells them that each crewmember is allowed to visit the planet, as long as there is still a functioning bridge crew for every shift. A problem for those working there, Nino figures. That means he has three days of free time.  
  
“Please tell me you have postponed all work for three days,” Nino says to Jun, who lifts an eyebrow at him.  
  
“Me?” Jun laughs and points to Sho. “He’s the one who schedules everything. Tell him that.”  
  
Nino faces Sho and repeats exactly what he said to Jun only seconds ago.  
  
“I may have made plans,” Sho says, not quite looking at him.  
  
Nino tries not to sigh. He forgot that Sho is not an indoor type like him. Surely Sho has this grand Aeris tour planned for the both of them. Nino doesn’t want to break his heart, but he doesn’t think he can fake enthusiasm over it when he’d rather linger in bed with Sho to continue where they left off the last time they tried to speed things up a little.  
  
“Please tell me those plans don’t last for three days,” he amends, and Jun outright laughs.  
  
Sho doesn’t say anything, and Nino sighs, defeated.  
  
“Enjoy the honeymoon,” Jun teases, and Nino resists the urge to say something rude to him.  
  
\--  
  
The great thing about shore leave approved by the Union is that all accommodations are paid for by the Union itself. Nino only has to bring his own credits with him to pay for everything else he might think of wanting—clothes (unlikely since he lives in a spaceship), food (also unlikely because he prefers the cheap ones), and transport (another impossible thing since he has no intentions to leave his shared suite with Sho—Jun’s supposed wedding gift).  
  
The thing that Nino doesn’t want at present is how Sho is dragging him out to come see Aeris with him. There’s no shortage of museums and exhibition halls in the planet, something Sho already researched about of course, and he has the plans to see them all.  
  
“I don’t know why this still needs saying,” Nino says, shrugging on his coat as Sho waits for him with an Aiba-like energy, “but I’m not the outgoing type, Sho-chan. Surely you have figured that out?”  
  
“I have, but you need to see this, Nino,” Sho insists. Nino has seen a couple of odd things for the past months, and he really doesn’t understand why he ought to see more.  
  
But Sho is enthusiastic and happy, eyes sparkling as they make the trip out and visit one place after another, and Nino isn’t exactly immune to him being so. He allows Sho to lead him to whatever popular tourist location he has planned for the day, complaining every now and then and not meaning it most of the time. Sho makes him eat all this food he has never sampled before and he does, and while he’s not as expressive as Sho when it comes to satisfying meals, Sho seems truly content that they are doing these things together. He doesn’t smile as much as Nino would have liked, but he makes these subtle grins when Nino’s about to turn away and Nino wants to catalog all of these moments.  
  
“It’s weird,” Nino says as they share a drink in the personal bar inside their suite (Jun picked the most luxurious one for them, the show-off), “that our dates are happening months after the marriage.”  
  
“Do you wish we had it the other way around?”  
  
Nino considers it. “Not really. I don’t think you would have kissed me that time in the observation deck if we weren’t married. There were cameras and while they were powered down, we weren’t exactly invisible. But you did it when I thought you never would.”  
  
Sho hides half of his face behind this glass of beer and Nino laughs at him, shoving his hand away lightly.  
  
“Be honest,” Nino says, liking that he has Sho on the spot right now and there’s no urgent transmission from Matsumoto Jun that will interrupt any moment, “would you have done that anyway? Even if Ilari didn’t happen?”  
  
“Would you?” Sho throws back.  
  
“Yes,” Nino answers. “Don’t gloat. I don’t like it when you gloat. But yes, I would have. I won’t deny being curious about it.”  
  
“I won’t either,” Sho admits. “So yes, to answer your question. Although I would have likely done it after the mission was over with the possibility I wouldn’t see you again.”  
  
“That’s slow,” Nino tells him. “Really slow, Sho-chan. Had it gone that way I think it would have been me who initiated things. My plan was to see for myself which one is stronger: the like or the dislike. Because I knew you liked me.”  
  
Sho isn’t facing him now. “Are you saying that seriously or are you just gloating?”  
  
Nino lets out a breathless laugh. “I knew you liked me the first time you called me ‘Nino’. You were calling me Ninomiya back then, but when you called me Nino, I knew from then.”  
  
Sho‘s brows furrow together a little. “From that time in the Ambassador’s office? After Zura?”  
  
“No. You called me Nino before that. When I had a relapse in the Zuran ship. Do you remember?”  
  
Sho’s face colors, making him even more flushed. “I thought you didn’t notice that.”  
  
“I was a little out of it, but I caught that. You always said Ninomiya with this air of utter dislike.” Nino imitates it, trying to channel contempt in every syllable.  
  
Sho jostles his shoulder. “I didn’t say it like that.”  
  
“I know what I heard, okay? Then you called me Nino in a voice you never used on me, and when I looked at you, I just knew.” He grins smugly now, leaning in Sho’s space and enjoying how embarrassed Sho is. “For the record though, I think I did already like you back then.”  
  
“You think?”  
  
“Well I don’t exactly put timestamps on these things.”  
  
Sho grabs his glass of beer and leaves his seat. “I think you’ve had quite enough.”  
  
Nino’s cheeks are indeed heating up because of the alcohol, but when he’s drunk, the first thing he does is to deny that he is. “You thought wrong. Give me back my glass.” His attempt to reach for it ends in an awkward, aimless swing.  
  
“No.” Sho deposits both of their glasses in the sink and washes them. “Go sober up in the refresher.”  
  
“Bossy,” Nino complains, but he does get up to do what Sho told him. He brushes his teeth and changes into the most comfortable pair of pajamas he has with a hole on the underside of a sleeve and settles under the covers.  
  
It might be too soon or too late when he feels the mattress dip beside him, and hears Sho order the lights off, blanketing the entire room in complete darkness.  
  
“Sho-chan,” he says, a little more groggily than he would have preferred.  
  
Sho only hums in question.  
  
“We’re going out again tomorrow?”  
  
He hears something close to a snort. “I won’t force you.” He then feels one of Sho’s hands stroking his upper arm. “I’ve got this theater production I want to catch though. So I might get back a little late.”  
  
“Okay,” he says, burying half of his face in the pillows. “I’m sleeping all day. My feet ache from all the walking we did.”  
  
“I’m not apologizing,” Sho says, drawing his hand back. Soon, Nino feels Sho drop a quick kiss to his temple. He groans, turning his head in Sho’s direction with his eyes shut. Sho gets the hint, lightly kissing the corner of his mouth.  
  
“I don’t really want you to,” Nino mutters, and that’s the last thing he remembers as he allows exhaustion to take him.  
  
\--  
  
Sho is gone by the time Nino wakes up, his side of the bed cold to the touch when Nino runs his palm over the sheets. There’s an unopened transmission on his personal comm and it’s a message from Sho, saying that he left early because he wanted to see this natural Aeris phenomenon that only occurs at dawn. That is just like him.  
  
Nino stretches his limbs before hogging all the covers and sleeping again. When he feels that he can’t sleep anymore, it’s past noon according to the chronometer. He has made plans to share a meal with Aiba, and he sends a message to the pilot asking him to meet Nino at the lobby of the hotel he’s staying at. Aiba’s shore leave only started a few hours ago since he’s part of the bridge crew, and thanks to Sho, Nino already has an idea where the two of them can share a meal for an affordable price.  
  
Aiba’s response is that he’s on his way there, and Nino finally wills his body to move.  
  
He and Aiba end up eating at a fast food joint that serves nothing but all kinds of intergalactic burgers. Some of which Nino is sincerely curious about, most he wants to forget he read on the menu. But since he is with Aiba, Aiba orders the most obscure one for the both of them and offers to pay for it, and who is Nino to refuse such a proposal?  
  
“You experiment too much with your food, Aiba-shi,” he says, not without a hint of affection.  
  
“I’ve been eating replicated stuff for months, Nino. Months! I don’t even know how real catsup tastes.”  
  
“Well we are about to find out. You did get the ones with catsup, right?”  
  
Aiba grins, wide and happy, too happy for someone whose shore leave is on limited time. Nino will never understand how he ticks. “I picked the weirdest ones in the bunch, and catsup was the only thing that is familiar about them. Maybe we won’t even taste the catsup!”  
  
“Heaven forbid we end up eating some slimy, smoky, mutant thing from some obscure planet,” Nino says. “If I die of food poisoning, I will come back just to haunt you for the rest of your life.”  
  
“Aww Nino, you always say these things!” Aiba reaches out to swat him on the arm and Nino clutches at the spot he hit. It hurts. Aiba has never known his own strength. “You don’t even know what’s going to happen!”  
  
“With you, I expect the worst all the time. If the worst doesn’t happen, consider me relieved,” he retorts.  
  
Their order arrives and Nino laughs out loud when it turns out that his prediction wasn’t an exaggeration. Aiba only views it as a challenge, digging in and immediately flashing a thumbs up when it turns out be really good.  
  
After the meal (which was indeed palatable, Nino admits), he and Aiba look for a bar that sells cheap drinks and shares a couple over stories of Aiba’s experiences as a personal pilot for Jun. Nino gets to hear Aiba’s version of the ‘smiling is taboo’ incident and discovers that it’s not so different from Sho’s, that Jun astonished everyone by his actions.  
  
“Jun-chan’s face doesn’t do him justice,” Aiba comments, his drink sloshing in his glass as he waves it around. Nino doesn’t understand him, but he listens to Aiba ramble on anyway. “You’d think with a face like that he’d be strict, fierce, and unreasonable, but he’s a hundred times kinder than what his appearance suggests.”  
  
“He does have a strong face,” Nino agrees. “Thick eyebrows too.”  
  
That earns a laugh from Aiba. “I was born in the space station, and as soon as I saw the spaceships, I knew what I was going to do with my life. I’m a child of space, Nino. Mom and Dad have this floating restaurant on Earth, and while I do help them while I’m around, I really belong in space.” He smiles as he finishes his drink and orders another. “Jun-chan was the first one who saw my potential, and since then, I swore never to pilot for anybody else.”  
  
Nino rests his chin on his knuckles, content with listening to Aiba’s story. “Sho-chan told me he applied for the secretary position himself. You did the same for the pilot position?”  
  
Aiba shakes his head. “I was working for Jun-chan even before Sho-chan came along. The moment Jun-chan was appointed the youngest ambassador, he sought me out. I did well in flight academy, I’ll have you know, but I wasn’t the best. Maybe average compared to the hotshots in my class. My record has three failed landing simulations. It’s not perfect.”  
  
“But Jun-kun didn’t mind.” Somehow, Nino can tell it didn’t matter to Jun.  
  
“I met him when I was still as a student and he was a junior ambassador. He worked his way up steadily—because that’s how Jun-chan is when he’s determined—and the next thing I knew, he was asking for Aiba Masaki, then-recent flight academy graduate to be his official pilot. I didn’t even have my license back then.” Aiba takes another shot, smiling at the burn of alcohol. “But he just got promoted and said he was just starting so he’d appreciate a familiar face given the change of environment.”  
  
Nino smiles and hides it behind his glass. He’s not much of a drinker, but Aiba doesn’t seem to mind. “Jun-kun does seem the type to play it cool when he’s embarrassed.”  
  
The night goes on, and Nino finds out that Aiba never fails to bring home souvenirs every time he visits a planet he’s never been to, and Nino can see in his eyes how much he misses home.  
  
“Stay longer next time,” Nino tells him. “If you miss it that much.”  
  
“I’d love to, but then who’s going to take Jun-chan to places?” Aiba says, and Nino smiles, seeing that Aiba is not too different from Sho when it comes to this. “I’m his pilot. Wherever he goes, I have to be the one to take him there.”  
  
Nino wonders now, as he listens to the rest of Aiba’s musings, if Jun knows how loved he is by everyone under his stead. Maybe he does, now that Nino thinks on it. Jun had the Union pay for his crew’s shore leave on one of the fanciest planets in the galaxy. A three-day stay costs plenty of credits, with he and Sho having been given the costliest suite. Nino can just imagine how Jun lobbied with the Union as his request got reviewed and addressed before it was approved.  
  
The hours pass quickly since it is easy for Nino to get lost in Aiba’s stories. He spent hours laughing at Aiba’s unique experiences and when he finally bids the man goodbye, Aiba hugs him. He’s drunk, and for Aiba, Nino discovers that means he gets touchy and teary-eyed.  
  
“Someday Nino, you should come visit my family’s restaurant. I’m going to introduce you to my mom, and you can impress her with your card magic if you’re so good at it,” Aiba says.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll impress her all right,” Nino says dotingly, ruffling Aiba’s hair before pushing him back. “Be careful on the way back, okay? Can’t have Jun-kun losing his only pilot.”  
  
Aiba salutes and stands at attention at that, and Nino laughs at him before turning on his heel to walk towards the direction of his hotel. He chooses to walk to sober up a little, appreciating the cool breeze hitting his face as he makes the journey back.  
  
When he’s finally reached his shared suite with Sho, he finds Sho waiting for him, watching a holofilm from the bed with his back resting comfortably against the headboard. Sho pauses the holofilm to greet him, and Nino decides that he’s had enough drinks to proceed with what he wants.  
  
He holds up a finger. “I’m going to take a shower,” he says, keeping his intent obvious in the tone of his voice, “and when I come back I want that holofilm turned off.”  
  
He hasn’t even made it inside the refresher when Sho switches off the holofilm, and he laughs, the sound reverberating against the tiles.  
  
\--  
  
Nino dries himself off and only puts a towel around his waist before sauntering back to the bedroom, finding that the bed has been stripped off the blankets and comforter, only the fitted sheet left.  
  
Good, Nino thinks. He and Sho are on the same page.  
  
He meets Sho’s eyes where Sho remains seated on the edge of the bed and takes slow, measured steps towards him, stopping when he’s standing right between Sho’s legs. Sho is in his usual unattractive sweats, but Nino couldn’t care any less—Sho’s eyes are darker and Nino runs his thumb lightly along the man’s plump bottom lip.  
  
“Did you turn off your comm?” he whispers. “Because I would hate to hear Jun-kun’s voice from that thing when you’re finally fucking me.”  
  
Sho tugs him closer by grabbing his hips, his nose right on Nino’s stomach. Breathing in and out, tickling Nino a little with each puff of air. “I put it on ‘do not disturb’.”  
  
“Fair enough,” Nino says, pressing his thumb to the corner of Sho’s mouth, the slightest bit of moisture clinging to his fingertip. He sneaks a glance at the nightstand and finds everything they could possibly need. He grins. “Did you prepare for this too when you made your plans?”  
  
“I thought it wouldn’t be unlikely to happen,” Sho says, voice deep and sending a shiver down Nino’s spine.  
  
“What else have you planned for us?” Nino asks, and he swears that even under the dim lighting, Sho’s pupils are huge and are thinning out the brown to almost nothing. He licks his lips in anticipation.  
  
“I can show you,” Sho whispers, right against his skin, and Nino shuts his eyes and gives in.  
  
Sho pulls off the towel with little finesse, letting it drop to the floor as he leaves Nino’s skin kissed and hot all over. Sho’s fingers ghost over the ridges formed by Nino’s ribs, his mouth licking a path to Nino’s navel and lingering there. Nino lets his hands settle on Sho’s shoulders, fisting at the fabric of his wooly sweatshirt until Sho withdraws from him and raises his arms in cooperation.  
  
“You prude,” Nino accuses, “keeping all your clothes on while I’m standing here naked for minutes now.”  
  
Sho doesn’t dignify him with a reply, instead tugs at his wrist so he ends up straddling Sho before lowering himself to sit on his lap. As soon as Nino feels Sho’s hand supporting his back, Sho kisses him, hard and hungry, like he’s been waiting for so long.  
  
In hindsight, both of them have.  
  
Nino responds in kind, one hand on Sho’s shoulder while the other is cupping his nape, pushing him closer. He can taste nothing but Sho in his mouth. His hand moves up to touch Sho’s hair, soft strands that he can’t resist pulling just to have Sho cry out.  
  
There is this necessity to breathe so even if Nino wants more of Sho’s mouth, he breaks away when his lungs begin to hurt.  
  
“Sho-chan,” he pants as Sho nips at his clavicle, marking his skin, “bed, bed. Now.”  
  
It doesn’t make much sense, but Sho somehow understands, letting him go with a parting lick to his neck. Sho rids himself of his sweats and Nino crawls and flops onto the center of the bed, letting out a pleased sigh when the cool sheets touch his heated skin.  
  
He beckons Sho to join him and Sho obeys, climbing on the bed and dropping to his hands and knees as he presses kisses from Nino’s legs up to his thighs. Nino writhes in satisfaction as Sho’s hot mouth continues its journey upward, stopping only when it reaches his hipbone to suck there.  
  
Nino takes himself in hand, providing bouts of reliefs as Sho casually explores his body. He’s into half a dozen strokes when Sho’s hand closes over his wrist, stopping him, and he opens his eyes to look down.  
  
Sho only shakes his head once and Nino lets go, hand finding its place at the back of Sho’s head.  
  
“Ask nicely,” Sho says in that baritone that makes Nino’s toes curl, his mouth close to where Nino wants him, and Nino groans, biting his lip. “Ask for it, Nino. Come on.”  
  
“Please,” he breathes, spine curving as he seeks for warmth around his cock. “Please.”  
  
Sho runs his thumb teasingly over the slit, smearing precome. He raises his finger between them, slick and glistening, before putting his finger in his mouth and Nino moans.  
  
His hands tug at Sho’s hair forcefully. “Please.”  
  
Sho takes pity on him, and Nino brings the back of his hand over his mouth when Sho purposefully hollows his cheeks. Sho doesn’t go fast, instead taking his time as he coaxes Nino, allowing Nino to go as far as he can inside his mouth.  
  
Nino wills his eyes to open and watch, and he can’t resist sitting up when Sho looks at him. He reaches down to stroke Sho’s trembling eyelashes, breath starting to come out in gasps as a result of Sho’s efforts.  
  
When it becomes too much, Nino twitches away from the heat of Sho’s mouth, hands fisting at Sho’s hair and pulling. “Stop, stop, stop,” he huffs, body flushed and cock leaking as Sho pulls away with an audible, obscene pop.  
  
He takes both of Sho’s hands in his and pulls him on level with him, kissing his gifted mouth to chase away his own taste. “I don’t want to come until you’re in me,” he admits, and Sho lets out an almost imperceptible moan, clearly finding that hot.  
  
Nino drops a quick peck on Sho’s swollen lips before maneuvering himself under him. “Lie back.”  
  
“Why?” Sho asks, teeth finding an earlobe and nibbling on it.  
  
“Because I want to taste you,” Nino says. He punctuates it with a squeeze on Sho’s cock and he hears Sho’s quiet “fuck” before Sho scrambles to get in place.  
  
As soon as Sho’s back hits the mattress, Nino situates himself between his thighs, lowering his face so he’s nosing the wiry curls above Sho’s thick cock. Since he’s not as mean as Sho, he doesn’t make Sho ask for it, instead taking nearly all of Sho in his mouth without warning and enjoying the way Sho jerks as a reaction, thighs jolting around him.  
  
Aside from card magic, Nino is also good at this.  
  
He starts slow, taking inch by careful inch and breathing through his nose, hands moving up to keep Sho’s legs open. He flattens his tongue so he can have the tip of Sho’s cock grazing his throat, and Sho lets out a whimper that Nino wants to hear again.  
  
He pulls off to relax his jaw, flicking his tongue at the swollen head as he takes the shaft in hand. He can’t wait to have Sho inside him now that he has all of Sho to himself. There are no data pads that require looking over, no reports in need of revisions sitting neglected in a corner. It’s just him and the things he has always wanted to do with Sho, and Nino wants to take his time.  
  
He strokes Sho fast as he laps up at the precome pearling at the tip, feeling Sho grow heavier in his hands. He’s about to descend and have as much of Sho’s cock as possible fill his mouth again when Sho reaches out, stroking his cheekbone with a thumb.  
  
Sho shakes his head once, and Nino understands. He kisses the head once before moving back up, sharing kisses with Sho whose hands move to his back down to his ass, fingers tracing the cleft. Nino arches on top of him and he doesn’t break away from Sho’s mouth, even when he hears Sho uncapping the lube and smearing some on his fingers.  
  
Sho is on his back now, Nino bracing himself on top of him, hands flat on either sides of his head. Nino searches for Sho’s other hand in the darkness, getting lube on his own fingers and reaching back, joining Sho’s slick fingers as they hover on his hole.  
  
Nino pushes in first, moaning in Sho’s mouth all the while, one shaky arm holding his body up. Sho’s other hand closes over his hip and props him up as he stretches himself till he’s loose enough, then he bites at Sho’s bottom lip to get his attention.  
  
“With me,” he whispers, and it ends in a sharp inhale when he feels the push of Sho’s finger, the two of them now preparing him. He can’t help writhing on top of Sho but the hand that’s on his hip holds him in place. He buries his face against Sho’s neck, breathing hard as he starts riding their fingers.  
  
Eventually he is able to take more, two of Sho’s fingers and two of his, moving in tandem as they scissor together inside. Nino bites at the skin over Sho’s shoulder to keep his whimpers down and Sho hisses, pushing his fingers faster in retaliation and Nino’s arm finally gives out.  
  
He collapses on top of Sho, half-laughing as he plants series of kisses on the man’s neck. When he finds Sho’s ear he licks the shell of it and sighs, “Fuck me,” withdrawing his hand from himself.  
  
Sho cups his jaw and turns his head for a kiss, unhurried and soft. When he pulls away, Sho bites at his chin lightly.  
  
“Ride me,” Sho orders, and Nino’s moving.  
  
He hurriedly coats Sho’s cock in lube and he’s positioned right above Sho when he remembers, resting his hand on Sho’s chest.  
  
“You—?” he asks. It’s all he can say and he hopes it’s enough.  
  
“I checked medbay’s files,” Sho informs him, and Nino laughs.  
  
“Of course you did.” It’s such a Sho thing to say in such a crucial moment, and Nino’s glad he never pegged Sho to be a smooth talker despite the deep rumble that his voice has when he is aroused. Only Sho would inform him that he had looked up whether they’re both clean by verifying with medbay.  
  
He moves back up and kisses away Sho’s pout. “I like you,” he admits. “I really like you.”  
  
Then he straightens and lowers himself, one hand guiding Sho’s cock to his hole, the other flat on Sho’s chest. He sinks down once he feels the tip pressing against him, and if Sho moans, Nino can’t hear him when he’s moaning himself.  
  
Once he’s adjusted to the stretch he begins to move, lifting himself up little by little until he can have only the head of Sho’s cock inside before he sinks back down again, using his knees to grind himself faster. He reaches behind him to hold on to Sho’s thighs for more leverage, focusing on fucking himself until Sho’s meeting him halfway, hips bucking back against him.  
  
“Yes,” Nino hisses, head thrown back to flick away the sweat that trickles down his forehead. He doesn’t touch himself since Sho didn’t ask for that, and soon he’s steadily bouncing on Sho’s lap, the mattress creaking in time with them.  
  
He slows down when Sho makes this choked groan, the sound trapped in his throat. Nino braces himself by grasping Sho’s shoulders, dictating the tempo and feeling himself in control. Sho’s hands are caressing his sides, climbing up until they reach his nipples, and Nino lets out this keening whine when Sho pinches both before running his thumbs over the pert buds.  
  
It’s so good and Nino feels totally full, vocalizing his pleasure in a way that echoes around the room. Combined with the filthy sounds of him repeatedly fucking himself on Sho’s cock, he knows if he reaches down to touch himself, he’s going to come.  
  
His eyes snap open when Sho suddenly takes his hands in his, pushing back, and Nino’s shock ends in a gasp as Sho flips them, one hand taking both of his wrists and raising his arms above his head. Nino’s on his back now, legs locking around Sho’s hips on instinct as Sho pushes back in.  
  
He whimpers when he realizes that this change in position allows Sho to fuck him deeper and harder, his hands clenching and unclenching in Sho’s fierce grip. He can only arch his back and take it, nails scratching the fine material of the headboard as Sho fucks him in earnest.  
  
He must be wailing because the next thing he feels is Sho’s hand clamping over his mouth. His cock is neglected and leaking and Sho is still fucking him, and he’s reeling from all the combined sensations: his arms up as Sho holds him down, his knees bent and ankles crossed, his cock lying heavily on his stomach, his heart hammering inside his ribcage, his noises muffled by Sho’s hand on him, the constant smack of Sho’s hips against his ass.  
  
Nino feels _restrained_ , and he loves every second of it.  
  
“I want you to come,” Sho huffs, leaning down to nip at his earlobe, “just from me.” He doesn’t slow down, instead slides deeply until Nino can’t think of anything else. “Nino.”  
  
Nino has his eyes shut, grunting in pleasure against Sho’s palm, teeth digging into the skin, then he hears it again. His name, his nickname, followed by one Sho has never used until now.  
  
“Kazu,” Sho whispers in his ear, and Nino clenches around him, nearly sobbing at how much Sho wants him with that word alone. Sho swears, hips faltering for a fraction of a second. Then he demands, “Come for me, Kazu, come on.”  
  
Sho extracts his hand from his mouth and makes a sharp thrust that leaves Nino shouting, spilling hot between them, entire body convulsing as his vision snaps away and he seems to have reached someplace else. Belatedly, when the thrill of orgasm has subsided, he notices that he can move his arms, that Sho has finally let him go. Sho has his face buried in Nino’s neck as he continues to move, repeated swears coming from his lips, and Nino encourages him by pulling on his hair, making him hiss in combined pain and pleasure.  
  
Sho pushes in a few more times before he abruptly withdraws and kneels between Nino’s spread thighs, taking himself in hand. He strokes, brutal and needy with his shoulders pulled back, giving Nino a full view of everything.  
  
“Go on,” Nino urges, and Sho’s eyes snap open, meeting his gaze. Nino licks his lips and opens his mouth for show. “On me. Come on me, Sho. All over me. Mark me.”  
  
He hears Sho’s breath hitch then Sho’s coming, face creasing in satisfaction as he dirties Nino’s stomach and chest in quick bursts. Nino allows him to bask in it. He stretches his sore, weary limbs as Sho descends from his high, collapsing right beside him.  
  
For a while there’s nothing but their rushed breaths, Nino’s pulse thundering in his ears. He feels used and thinks that he is a perfect depiction of debauchery—legs spread, chest and cheeks flushed, neck mottled with bruises, pearlescent come drying on his stomach as he breathes. He knows he needs a shower but finds that he can’t move, not when he’s been thoroughly fucked and his alcohol-swaddled head is starting to demand sleep.  
  
He doesn’t know how long it takes before he hears Sho move, and he has no idea how many minutes passed before Sho returns, dabbing a damp washcloth on his come-stained torso. He allows Sho to dote on him for a while, cleaning him up as best as he can, touch lingering a little on the flesh over his hipbones.  
  
“You know what we should do tomorrow?” Nino asks, voice hoarse after all the screaming that he apparently did. He has no concrete recollection of it.  
  
Sho blinks at him, and Nino gives him a lazy, tired grin.  
  
“All of that again until shore leave ends.”  
  
Sho returns his smile and kisses him, and Nino wraps his arms around his nape to pull him back to the bed. The shower can wait.  
  
\--  
  
Whatever Sho has planned for the following morning gets cancelled since they go with Nino’s plan: fucking all day until Nino’s certain he can’t come anymore. He’s been fucked on his back, on his hands and knees, against the bar counter, and when Sho has him pinned against the door, one hand twisting his arm up his back as Sho pushes into him, it’s when it crosses Nino’s mind that this is the kind of development Aiba has been waiting for for months.  
  
His thighs are sticky by the time they’re done. They are both sweat-soaked and panting, tangled together in a heap of limbs by the door as Sho kisses him gently and Nino responds as best as he can, clinging to Sho’s warmth despite all they just did.  
  
The console above their heads buzzes and they both look up, Sho with his eyes wide and Nino with a frown.  
  
“That’s the room service,” Sho tells him, his brain apparently functioning adequately now. They ordered in because they never planned to leave for the entire day, and Nino groans at the timing. On the bright side, at least they’re done.  
  
He stands on shaky legs, tinkering with the console so only his voice can be heard. “Please leave it in the corridor, thank you.”  
  
The bellboy nods and leaves, and Nino slumps against the wall.  
  
“I am not getting that,” he tells Sho, who laughs breathlessly from his position at Nino’s feet. “I still have your come in me, for fuck’s sake. I’m not stepping out to get that until I have cleaned myself.”  
  
“I didn’t tell you to go get it,” Sho retorts, bracing himself against the wall. Nino moves away before Sho can kiss him again, picking up the discarded bathrobe from earlier and chucking it in Sho’s direction.  
  
“Go get it then,” he says, already making his way to the shower.  
  
He showers and returns to find Sho eating on the bed, though he’s only picking at the food they ordered and not actually stuffing his face with gusto. Nino plops beside him and steals the piece of fried potato between his fingers, popping it in his own mouth.  
  
They sit naked together—Nino smelling like the hotel soap and shampoo, Sho smelling like Nino earlier—eating whatever junk food Nino managed to convince Sho to order for their very late dinner. To be fair, Nino picked the kind of junk food they can’t replicate on the ship, and Sho seems too satisfied from all the sex to even care.  
  
They have approximately sixteen hours before shore leave ends, and Nino is perfectly content with spending it by covering his hands in grease and munching on food that can’t be healthful at this hour.  
  
“Nino,” Sho says in between chewing, and Nino hums, halfway into putting another fried potato in his mouth.  
  
Sho’s face suddenly colors a bit, but when Nino thinks he won’t say it, he proves Nino wrong. “I really like you too,” he mumbles.  
  
Nino hums. “I actually knew that,” he says, tossing the potato in his mouth.  
  
Sho nudges his side with an elbow and Nino hides his smile over a mouthful of junk food.  
  
When they finally come back to the ship via a paid transport shuttle, they swing by Jun’s office to let the man know that they have returned. Nino made sure to wear something that wouldn’t reveal the state of his neck. He won’t hear the end of it from Jun and, heaven forbid, Aiba.  
  
Jun only lifts his head to peer at them over his book, then his eyes narrow, one finger lowering his glasses a little as he observes them more intently. Nino dares him to say something by staring back, and of course Jun rises up to the challenge.  
  
“How was the honeymoon?” Jun asks with one of his knowing smiles.  
  
Sho doesn’t say anything beside him, pointedly not looking at Jun, and Jun faces Nino for answers.  
  
Nino inclines his head modestly and Jun’s smile grows wider.  
  
Jun holds out his hand to him then, and Nino spends two seconds evaluating his choices before he slaps it, giving his boss a high five.  
  
They share a laugh when Sho pinches the bridge of his nose.  
  
\--  
  
The following months of Nino’s life are eventful, both in work and in private. After their shore leave, the Union has decided to have them meet other ambassadors to Earth on their respective home planets. Given the short intervals between one visit and another, Nino and Sho are taking turns acting as Jun’s primary translator.  
  
In the time they have to spare, Nino allows Sho to teach him Elioni, but can’t quite grasp the proper intonation even weeks into practicing. Sho is a patient teacher though, not giving up when Nino already is, and his authentic enthusiasm is what draws Nino’s interest back in.  
  
His relationship with Sho is going smooth, though they’ve had a couple of petty fights that they resolved by compromising. Nino learns that Sho hates it when his replicator settings for coffee are tweaked, but Sho loves cheesecake and will drink the coffee that comes with it even if Nino changed it from black to with cream. Sho finds out more about him in equal measure—his passion for holofilms, the old dream of becoming a filmmaker, his dislike for exercise.  
  
They sometimes play a game in which they speak in foreign languages, changing the language each turn, to catch the other at not understanding what was said. Nino is yet to win against Sho, but there are no losers since sexual favors are at stake.  
  
The entire ship seems to know that they are—in every sense of the word—married, and Nino suspects that Aiba is responsible for the spread of the news. He and Sho prefer to keep their relationship private; Nino doesn’t want a repeat of Jun interrupting them ever again.  
  
After their visits and meetings with the other ambassadors, the Union has chosen to send them to the space station for a ship refit and a meeting with a viceroy representing the biggest ally of the Union in the Delta Quadrant, Eos. Jun believes that the Union simultaneously scheduled for both things on purpose, since the ship refit will take an indefinite amount of time, thereby giving Jun all the time he needs to convince the viceroy that they have taken the right side.  
  
“The problem with this job,” Jun says, when Nino and Sho are both presenting updates to him regarding the viceroy, “is that I never get to say the things I want to say. Only the Union’s words must pass through my mouth.”  
  
“We need Eos in the event of war,” Sho says, handing Jun a data pad. “I share your opinion regarding their race, Ambassador. They prefer bloodshed over diplomacy, but they remain the strongest ally of the Union.”  
  
“And if we win the war, what happens? The spoils of war are for the soldiers of Eos to take care of in our stead? The concept of incarceration for war criminals is foreign to them,” Jun says, frowning as he scrolls through the file he’s reading. “Which, for me, means that I have to act like I am in favor of executions once we meet the viceroy, and forgive me, Sho-kun, but there’s a limit to my acting skills.”  
  
“Your reservations regarding their ways can be addressed at another time,” is what Nino says. Jun looks up at him. “I’m hardly in favor of anything the Union says and this is no exception. But address those concerns when you’re not alone. Do it when there’s the rest of the Union’s allies with you in a conference so you have people to back you up.”  
  
Jun’s eyebrow quirks. “You wouldn’t leave me alone with a man who is in favor of war so they can use their advanced artillery, would you?”  
  
“I don’t think anyone in their right mind will,” Nino says, earning Sho’s murmur of agreement.  
  
“With all due respect, Ambassador, there may be a limit to your acting abilities, but the viceroy only needs to be reassured of their status as an ally. Convince him as you’ve convinced every person we have met for the past year,” Sho tells him encouragingly. “If there is anyone onboard this ship who can do that, it is you.”  
  
Jun laughs. “Flattery will get us nowhere, Sho-kun. I can’t believe it’s been a year.” He looks at Nino apologetically. “I know I told you when we first met that the mission would be for eight months at most. I’m sorry for giving you a poor estimate.”  
  
“I’m not that excited to go back home, don’t worry.” Nino shrugs.  
  
“But I believe this is the last mission the Union has for us in this quadrant,” Jun says, as if Nino didn’t interrupt him. He only nods at Sho and Nino’s confused faces. “I received the order that as soon as the ship is declared fit for hyperspace travel, we are going home.”  
  
Nino hasn’t made any plans on what he’ll do once his contract as a translator ends. Sho goes wherever Jun is, being the Ambassador’s secretary, but what about him? His necessity only lasts for as long as they are in the Delta Quadrant. After that, what happens to him?  
  
Jun is looking at him now, and Nino can’t read his expression. “That’s good,” Nino says noncommittally, “that we are returning. We’ve been too far from Earth for too long.”  
  
Jun strokes the tip of his nose with his thumb, an unconscious habit whenever he’s choosing his words carefully. “I know what you’re thinking,” Jun says. “Both of you at that. And so I have decided to offer a permanent position to you, Nino, on my team. If you want it. I believe my next task for the Union is to remain on the space station above Earth and meet delegates who will visit the planet in the future. That includes delegates from all quadrants, and some of them speak languages that even Sho-kun doesn’t. If you are willing, on the return trip, we can revise your contract and you will remain one of my translators.”  
  
Sho is looking at him with hopeful eyes, but Nino needs time to consider the offer. It is the best offer he will get, yes. He will remain employed, but he will also have to stay indefinitely on the space station. Given Jun’s busy schedule, Nino will hardly have time to visit Earth, see his family.  
  
“If you need time to think about it, I understand,” Jun says sincerely, smiling a little. “Because once the Union decides to ship me somewhere else, the both of you will automatically go with me. Those things frequently happen on short notice. There might not be time for you to visit Earth should you wish.”  
  
“How long is this offer open?” Nino asks quietly.  
  
“Indefinitely for you. Only for you though. I’m not certain I’m willing to open the position to anybody else, lest they also end up being married to my secretary. That would inconvenience me,” Jun says, trying to lighten the mood. “I would prefer not to have Sho-kun’s harem as my assistants.”  
  
Sho makes this pained face that Nino smiles at. “Ambassador…” Sho says disapprovingly, but Jun just waves his hand to dismiss it.  
  
“I want the best, Nino, to work for me because the job itself is not conventional. You have contributed a great deal to this mission as a whole and I am grateful for that. You can refuse, but know that I would hate to lose someone like you on my team. If you decide to decline, you are welcome to use my name for your next job application. I assure you I will provide a glowing recommendation,” Jun tells him, honest as ever. That’s one of the things Nino likes about him. Jun saves the sweet-talking for the people he has to meet.  
  
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Nino promises, bowing a little. “Thank you for the offer, Ambassador.”  
  
Later, in the privacy of Nino’s quarters since he and Sho take turns staying over at each other’s, Nino recalls the offer again and again.  
  
There’s a rustle of sheets beside him and soon Sho’s fingers are tracing his bicep.  
  
“I’m not going to ask you to say yes,” Sho whispers.  
  
Nino keeps his gaze on the ceiling. “I know.”  
  
“No, Nino, you don’t understand.” Sho sits up, sheets bunching around his waist. Nino doesn’t follow him; he remains lying on the bed. “I want you to say yes. Of course. But I can’t make you stay if you don’t want to. I wish I could, but I really have no control over that.”  
  
Nino lets his fingers follow the path formed by Sho’s spine. “I never said it,” he says, whispering now, as if anyone could hear them, “but I’m really awful at commitments. There’s...something about permanence that doesn’t sit right with me. Because of that fear, once I feel comfortable, I try not to feel too secure. Because that can change in a wink and I don’t want to be unprepared for it. Again.”  
  
“I’m not asking you to stay,” Sho assures him, not looking at him still.  
  
“I know.”  
  
“And I’m not going to. But...know that I want you to.”  
  
Nino finally sits up, resting his chin on Sho’s angular shoulder. “I don’t know what I want to do,” he admits.  
  
“Whatever you decide on, I’ll accept it. Despite the marriage, you’re not really tied to me.”  
  
Nino presses his forehead against Sho’s back at that, hiding his smile. Sho always knows the right words to say. “I also know that.” He brushes his shoulder against Sho’s. “Ilarian kiss, just so we won’t forget what brought us here.”  
  
He kisses Sho’s back and wraps his arms around Sho’s middle, running his hands on Sho’s torso. He doesn’t want to think of the offer yet. He wants to say yes, but he doesn’t know what the consequences that come with that decision will be. He doesn’t want to think about them yet.  
  
There’s a disbelieving laugh that Nino can feel vibrate through the flesh under his lips. “We should sleep,” Sho tells him.  
  
Nino doesn’t reply, instead letting his hand stray lower and takes hold, feeling Sho arch against his palm.  
  
“Okay,” Sho says through his teeth, hips already bucking back. “Sleep later.”  
  
Nino gets the wind knocked out of him in a second, Sho turning to pin his wrists down on either side of his face. He squirms suggestively, and laughs when Sho descends to claim his mouth.


	6. Chapter 6

The viceroy is perhaps one of those people in the universe that Nino immediately dislikes on first meeting. He is positive that his opinion of the man won’t change, given that every word that comes out of the viceroy’s mouth is full of conceit and doubt. For an ally, the viceroy exhibits behavior that is anything but. He questions even the design of the space station, insisting that had it been Jun who had to visit Eos, his accommodations would be incomparable.  
  
Despite Jun’s claims regarding his acting, he manages a sheepish, convincing smile every time a barely concealed insult is hurled at the Union. Nino is impressed more than ever, because Jun is one of the most honest people he knows. But Jun’s responsibilities come before anything else, something he shows with his patient and humble demeanor despite the viceroy taking jabs at Jun’s youth and assumed inexperience once in a while.  
  
It is Sho who fumes at every slight, but he doesn’t do anything other than glare when the viceroy is preoccupied.  
  
The viceroy continues to rattle on about the Union’s incapabilities, highlighting how important Eos is in times of war and why the Union should be more amenable to any future requests the planet might have. He tells parables from Eos to hide his utter disagreement for the Union’s views regarding preservation of life, and Nino spends a few minutes trying not to roll his eyes.  
s   
“Truth be told, Ambassador,” the viceroy says, using Jun’s title casually like it means nothing, “I’m surprised the Union still wishes for peace despite the looming threat we face. Have we not had enough conferences about the merits of refining our joined forces?”  
  
“As much as possible, the Union would like to not resort to violence. If war can be prevented, we try our best to work towards that. You would forgive us for the idealism and wish for peace. Earth has seen too many wars even before the discovery of hyperspace. A repeat of it on the intergalactic level is one we want to avoid if we can,” Jun explains. He doesn’t smile, but he keeps his expression neutral.  
  
“It’s quite interesting to hear that coming from you, Ambassador, given the company you keep,” the viceroy says, something that catches them off-guard.  
  
Nino sees Sho freeze at those words. The viceroy is looking right at Sho, and Jun has to clear his throat to get the man’s attention back to him.  
  
“I have no idea what you could mean, viceroy, given that I don’t dwell on the past,” Jun says defensively, jaw clenched.  
  
“Oh? But it is strange to me,” the viceroy says, rising from his seat to pace around the private meeting room, “that someone who has seen so much war and injustice as a child ought to be stuck in a peace envoy.” He looks straight at Sho and addresses him this time. “You are a Sakurai, yes?”  
  
“I am, “ Sho says. To his credit, his voice doesn’t falter, but Nino can see how he grounds himself, hands tightly fisted behind his back so the viceroy can’t see them.  
  
“And your family has friends who turned out to be chancellors, viceroys like myself, rulers, ambassadors, even governors. Most of which, I’ve noticed, are in favor of war. And those who are not don’t exactly have clean records themselves.” The viceroy is lingering in front of a contemporary mural on the wall.  
  
Nino doesn’t know a thing about Sho’s family because it’s a sore subject. Whenever Nino opened up about his, Sho never reciprocated, instead apologized for never being able to tell Nino a thing. Sho told him his only remaining tie to his family is his surname, nothing more. That he doesn’t consider himself one of them on most days. Nino never pried, but to see Sho so uncomfortable is making him angry.  
  
“Viceroy, pardon my inability to comprehend the meaning of this, but I hardly think this is relevant to the topic at hand,” Jun says firmly, but the viceroy pays him no mind. Nino can see Jun wanting to do something, but he seems at a loss for what to say.  
  
“How is it that a Sakurai like you ended up so far from Earth? Is that the Union’s way of showing forgiveness for ineptitude?” the viceroy asks, and Nino wants to hit him. He balls his hands into fists at his sides, reining in his temper so as not to embarrass Jun.  
  
“My father’s actions are his own, just as mine remain mine,” Sho says, as calmly as he can manage. He doesn’t break his eye contact with the viceroy, who smirks at his answer.  
  
“Yes, the spawn is never responsible for the misdeeds of the father,” the viceroy agrees, continuing with his pacing. “That’s how you escaped the blame, yes? When the Union found out who refused to lend a hand after the rather unfortunate circumstances that Nyx VII suffered, the punishment was never extended to the immediate family, only to those who were partly responsible. The Union’s form of justice seems particularly one-sided to me.”  
  
“What,” Nino whispers, not understanding a thing.  
  
Jun abruptly rises from his seat, slamming both palms flat on the table’s surface with force. “That is quite enough, viceroy. If you have no more pressing concerns, I call this meeting adjourned.”  
  
“You know the old Terran saying, Ambassador. Keep your friends close and enemies closer. I think I understand more now.” The viceroy makes his way to the door, bowing so low it’s as if he never instigated anything. “Until we meet again.”  
  
He departs the room after that, but Nino can’t focus on it. The man’s words ring in his ears, and he faces Sho slowly.  
  
“Tell me what he was talking about,” he says carefully, slowly, his anger rising gradually.  
  
“Nino,” Jun says as a warning, but Nino shakes his head fiercely.  
  
“Tell me, Sho-chan. What did he mean by that?”  
  
“Now is not the time,” Jun says, hand closing around Nino’s elbow.  
  
Nino turns to him. “Did you know?” Then he laughs. “Of course you knew.”  
  
Sho faces Jun and bows deeply. “Ambassador, I apologize for my selfishness, but if you could give us a moment, I would be most grateful.”  
  
Jun searches Nino’s eyes, and Nino makes sure every bit of his suppressed rage is present on them. “There are cameras,” Jun says as reminder, his grip on Nino slacking. “None of which I have control over. As far as I am aware the cameras won’t pick up what you will speak of. I only ask that you don’t get violent.”  
  
Sho is yet to rise from his bow. “I thank you.”  
  
Jun leaves then, doors swooshing shut behind him, and Sho straightens.  
  
“Explain that to me,” Nino says, crossing his arms over his chest to prevent himself from doing something he will regret. “And don’t leave anything out. What did he mean by this refusal to lend a hand to Nyx VII?”  
  
Nino has never seen Sho look so defeated. “My father was friends with your governor, one of the people who voted for him to be the governor of Nyx VII in the first place.”  
  
“And? How is that related to the rescue?” Nino asks, fearing the answer. He can’t look at Sho anymore, hating himself for his cowardice. “That madman of a governor we had never asked for help.”  
  
“But someone else in the colony did,” Sho says, and this is the first time Nino has heard of this. Not even the theses nor the incident reports he read had this.  
  
“Don’t lie to me, Sho-chan. Don’t.”  
  
“I am not.”  
  
Nino stares at him. “How is that possible? They confiscated all our pads and comms before he announced the list of who made the cut and who got to be acquainted with a firing squad. All means of communication were closed off even before the massacre took place.”  
  
Nino should know. He’s been there. He lived it. He’s a survivor of the incident.  
  
Sho shakes his head. “Someone in the colony sent radio frequencies asking for help,” he explains. “And it was decoded by a stray satellite of the Union. At that time, the leadership regarding other off-world settlements was being decided upon. The decoded message was delivered to the hands of those men making the decisions.”  
  
“And your dad was one of those people.”  
  
Sho nods gravely. “They paid it no mind because it was a distress signal via a radio frequency. Nobody uses radio anymore; it’s too obscure. They thought it was all a hoax, a long forgotten prank, and because my father believed in the governor, his friend, he convinced the rest of the board that it was nothing.”  
  
Nino somehow manages a laugh, breathless and hollow. So there was someone to blame other than the governor. All these years there was someone else out there he could have focused his anger on and he never knew until now. “How did I survive?” he asks quietly, feeling so detached from his own words. “If they paid it no mind, how did I survive?”  
  
Then he remembers the same thing he read in all the articles about Nyx VII.  
  
“I survived,” he mutters, answering his own question, “because the families of the colonists began reporting the sudden stop in communication, so the Union decided to check up on us.” He shuts his eyes, exhales in heavy, measured breaths. “Then what? What did your father and the rest of the board do after that?”  
  
“My father was convinced that the governor would never cease communications without reason.”  
  
Nino’s eyes widen in understanding. Suddenly the room feels too cold. “He knew,” Nino says disbelievingly. “Your...father. He knew we were dying. That my friends were being killed. That we were next.”  
  
Sho’s bottom lip is trembling and he won’t look up anymore. “He believed so much in his friend that he tried to cover up for it by buying the governor more time. To make things right, he thought Nyx VII only needed a bit of time.”  
  
“That bit of time cost thousands of lives,” Nino whispers, unable to stop himself from shaking. He can hear it again. The declaration that Nyx VII was experiencing a food shortage, that crops were dying, and that who goes and who stays would be determined through application of eugenics. Survival of the fittest, the governor told them, and elimination of the unfit.  
  
He shuts his eyes, afraid that once he opens them again he’s going to see it all again: the towering flames, the stars that are so far away, obscured by dark clouds formed by smoke, turning piles upon piles of bodies to ash.  
  
He keeps himself upright by gripping the back of the nearest chair. His voice doesn’t sound like his own when he uses it, like he’s watching himself perform on some stage, like he’s not him at all. “Tell me what happened after.”  
  
“You know. Everything that is in the reports, that was it,” Sho answers. He sounds so far away and Nino focuses on breathing in and out. “When the Union saved the remaining colonists, my father lobbied for lifetime imprisonment for the governor.”  
  
“That monster is alive because another one ensured it,” Nino says, snorting in laughter. “How is your dear father now?” He blinks and faces Sho, wondering if his face is the spitting image of the man who chose to protect a person in power over the people who believed in them. “Is this why you don’t want to talk about your family with me? Because I’m bound to figure things out and you thought I couldn’t handle it?”  
  
“I thought you wouldn’t take it well,” Sho admits, eyes on his feet.  
  
“Because I’m not mature enough for it?” Nino spits. Sho grimaces and sets his jaw, eyebrows knit as he shakes his head in denial.  
  
Nino exhales. “What happened to your dad? Don’t tell me he’s in the Union now, because I will find him and demand answers if he is.”  
  
“Once they found out what he did, the Union decided to keep him in permanent isolation. To my knowledge, he remains isolated for life, if he is still alive,” Sho says. He doesn’t sound like he has any sympathy for him. He sounds as if he is talking about a total stranger.  
  
Nino is still breathing hard, clutching at the chair for support. This wasn’t how he expected their last mission to go. He put it all behind him months ago. Why does it keep coming back? Why does it continue to haunt him no matter where he goes? Hasn’t it been enough? The faces chasing after him change but the nature doesn’t. It’s all the same, always reminding him of the nightmare that no kid should have gone through. If this is the price of survival, then was it worth it?  
  
He grits his teeth and starts letting out air between the spaces, shushing lowly. Stop, he wants to say to the voices in his head. Stop tormenting me. Stop following me. Leave me alone.  
  
Remember your colors, he reminds himself. Blue, green, brown. Again. Again.  
  
He hears Sho take a step closer to him and he raises his arm to stop him, fingers outstretched.  
  
“Don’t. Don’t come any closer,” he says, focusing on one spot on the floor.  
  
Sho remains rooted where he is, and Nino wills himself to calm down. It’s all in the past. Jun said it, didn’t he? They don’t dwell on the past. Sho has nothing to do with it. It was his father, not him. The child can’t choose their parents, and no son has to pay for the sins of the father.  
  
“Do you know what angers me?” Nino says, jaw trembling as he struggles to keep his emotions in line. They are all threatening to burst forth, tipping over the edge. All it would take is for him to snap.  
  
Sho has so much regret in his eyes, his shoulders slumped, expression guilty. Nino can’t imagine how he feels because he has no more room to feel anything else. “Nino…”  
  
“What angers me,” Nino continues, ignoring him, “is that you kept this all from me. You knew. From the moment I spoke of it after Zura, you knew I was a survivor of the horror your dad and our shitty governor created together. That’s why you looked at me like that on that day.”  
  
He laughs, unable to believe what he remembers with clarity. “Was it a form of repentance on your part? All we did, all we had, all we shared these past months...was that you trying to make things right for someone like me?”  
  
“No,” Sho denies quickly, shaking his head fiercely. “It has nothing to do with that.”  
  
“Then what was it? Were you trying to save the victim from the things that sometimes kept him up at night?” Nino says. He doesn’t know how he can still smile, but it feels appropriate to do so. He might be sneering but he can’t be sure.  
  
“No!” Sho insists, looking upset now. “I wasn’t using you. How can you think that?”  
  
“With all the things you chose not to tell me, I’m not so certain what to believe anymore,” Nino says, stepping back, putting distance between him and Sho. “Let me help you remember. The way you looked at me when you first learned the truth about me? That was you pitying the victim. But I wasn’t a victim, Sho, I was an example. Something to remind people that monsters only take different faces. And now mine is coming back, in the form of that fucking viceroy who uses truths to taunt, truths which you would have kept for as long as you could, Jun as your loyal accomplice. That’s why he hired me, isn’t it? As a way to help you? To assist in your remorse?”  
  
“I never knew you were a colonist until you disclosed it to me. That wasn’t a lie. The Ambassador’s reasons are his own, but if you think I’ve been lying to you all these months, that’s where you are wrong. Did any of those feel like a lie to you? Like I merely saw you as a tool?” Sho is angry now, staring disbelievingly at him. They never had a fight like this before.  
  
“I have no idea what goes on in your head,” Nino says. “I rarely did, and now I’m sure I don’t really know you that well. Tell me honestly. Did you even have any plans of telling me?”  
  
Sho shuts his eyes. Says his name as if he’s begging, but Nino won’t have any of it. “Answer the question, Sakurai-san,” he says, stressing Sho’s last name.  
  
Sho’s silence lingers and it’s enough of an answer. Nino laughs, not knowing what else to do. He wants to be angry, but he doesn’t know where to direct that rage. Sho stands there, looking vulnerable, and a part of Nino itches to give him a taste of what he’s feeling, but he can remember how being with Sho felt. Real, like he was truly wanted. Like it was a place where he felt secure, where he had an equal who understood him. Was it all some wishful thinking on his part? Him seeing things that weren’t truly there?  
  
Nino is not so sure of anything anymore.  
  
He takes a step back and slowly makes his way to the doors.  
  
He hears Sho call him out, repeated mentions of his name. “Nino. Nino, please. Please.” Sho sounds certain of what Nino is about to do, and Nino can’t help laughing. How is it that Sho knows what he’s going to do when he hasn’t even figured out that part himself?  
  
“You once said you have no control over anything I choose to do and that you’re not going to ask me to stay,” Nino reminds him, looking over his shoulder. “Were you lying?”  
  
“No,” Sho answers. He sounds cornered and exhausted, even helpless. “That was the truth. Still is.”  
  
Nino takes a step and the doors open.  
  
He walks out, not looking back.  
  
\--  
  
He finds Jun on the observation deck of the space station, overseeing the repairs of the ship through tall glass panels, hands clasped behind him. He’s the exact mirror of the Sho Nino first met.  
  
He approaches Jun without grace, footsteps loud in the room. Jun’s eyes meet his in the glass, and Nino doesn’t waste time.  
  
“What you said when you hired me,” he says, cutting to the chase, but Jun doesn’t let him finish his question.  
  
“That remains true to this day,” Jun tells him. “I hired you because Nyx VII was in the Delta Quadrant and a year ago I have never been here before. I hired you because when I asked Sho-kun to help me eliminate candidates, you were the most qualified among all those who met my standards.”  
  
“Forgive me for having doubts, Ambassador,” Nino says, choosing to be formal to detach himself from it all, “but given your reputation of looking out for your crew, I may have had cause to believe otherwise due to recent revelations.”  
  
Jun whips his head around to face him, eyes narrowed. “I won’t have you question my decisions. Not when I answered you truthfully. If you think that I employed you because of Sho-kun, then you are doubting not only me but also yourself and your capabilities. I will settle for you questioning yourself, but you will not question me. I know what I did and I know why I did it.”  
  
Nino appreciates Jun’s brutal honesty. He prefers it over Sho’s reluctant one. He walks towards the glass windows and stands just a few paces’ distance from Jun.  
  
“I received it,” Jun tells him when the silence has stretched long enough. “Before you found me. Do you mean it?”  
  
Nino sent a resignation notice to Jun’s data pad before he even went looking for Jun. Whatever he thought he might find in space, it wasn’t this nonstop reminder of what he can’t escape. He’s done. He wants to walk away from all of it completely, from everyone who knows about it. Trying to prove to himself that he can keep on surviving wasn’t one of his brightest ideas. He can admit that now.  
  
“You have my thanks for the offer,” Nino says, pertaining to the permanent position on Jun’s team. But he can’t. He can’t when he remains attached to what’s been holding him down for years. Until he has settled things with himself, there’s no place for him on the _Masquerade_. “But I will have to decline. And yes, I mean it. But since the mission is not over yet, I will stay until its conclusion.”  
  
Jun sighs, breath fogging the glass for the briefest of moments. “And the return trip? Will you still join us for that?”  
  
Everything in Nino’s quarters on the ship reminds him of Sho. He doesn’t think he can go back there even after the refit is finished and the room is cleaned. He can recall how many sleepless nights he had on that bed just thinking about being in space and in the Delta Quadrant.  
  
“No.” He already made arrangements. “I’ve enlisted myself onto a passenger ship set for Earth. You need not worry about me.” He faces Jun and bows in combined apology and gratitude. “I’ve been in your care for more than a year and I am grateful for the opportunity, the experience. My sincerest apologies for any inconveniences this decision will cause you.”  
  
“I’m not saying I understand,” Jun tells him, and he straightens up again. “But you have your reasons and you think this is the right thing. I may not agree, but the choice is always yours. I can respect that.” Jun inclines his head at him. “I’ve also been under your care. Thank you for your services.”  
  
Nino spends some more minutes watching the ship’s ongoing refit, then he excuses himself and starts heading towards the exit.  
  
“Nino,” Jun says, when he‘s almost at the door.  
  
Nino faces him, already predicting what he has to say.  
  
“Tell him at least,” Jun says, like he’s pleading.  
  
Nino can only shake his head decisively. “I can’t promise that.” He doesn’t even know if he can stand being in the same room as Sho. These numbered days under Jun’s employment will take a toll on him. “I’m sorry. I can’t...I can’t be with him if I’m still like this. It won’t be fair to us both.”  
  
He needs time to settle things with himself, to fix whatever’s broken.  
  
He leaves after that, not waiting for Jun to say anything. His footsteps ring in his ears as he walks aimlessly. The activity around him is drowned out by his own thoughts, and for once, Nino doesn’t silence them. He listens to them and allows them to sink in, even finding that some of them have a point, worth pondering and mulling over.  
  
As a survivor, he knows what to do. He knows how to walk away when it all becomes too much, too suffocating even. Back on the colony he lost friends, adults he believed in, protectors he thought would always be there. People who meant the world to him. He lost his faith in humanity for a moment. And yet he lived through it, all of what was left behind without them or any of those things by his side. He did just fine.  
  
He is simply going to lose people again, not too different from before. He has done it before. He has been through it before. Circumstances keep taking people away from him, forcing him to walk the other direction and tread it alone. Very well then. It’s not up to him to question how these things go. If Jun’s belief that everyone has their own place has an ounce of truth to it, then Nino’s belongs someplace far from them. Somewhere that the ghosts can’t follow, maybe. If he has to cut ties with people who are important to him, so be it.  
  
The subsequent days pass in a blur. The viceroy’s words don’t even register, and Nino has learned to avoid looking at Sho. Sho is a reminder of the things after him. Sho didn’t even trust that he could handle the truth. Nino should be angry at him, but finds himself unable to.  
  
He settles for avoiding Sho completely, toughening himself up, building walls around him. Whenever someone talks to him, his responses are perfunctory, concise, devoid of any opinion. He fulfills his duties as a translator whenever an alien personnel addresses Jun. He performs adequately, treating his work life as his only life, the only thing that matters.  
  
If Jun notices the change, he doesn’t voice it. Nino learns how to avoid looking at him as well. He begins detaching himself from everything he knows. That’s always step one. He knows how to deal with disappointments caused by being attached to things that don’t last.  
  
They never do. All the things that made Nino happy were never meant to stay for long. He knew that, and yet a part of him still hoped. That’s what hurts him the most, he realizes, more than the thought of Sho keeping things from him. He thought that he could keep what he had with Sho, enjoy it to the fullest before he’d have to see it taken away from him.  
  
He should have known better than to expect, than to commit. His life is one set of disappointments after another, something Nino knew from long ago. When he found something good, of course it would end in the same way. Everything did. Everything that was important to him, that he loved, he had to walk away from in order to keep going.  
  
As he walks past halls, past people who are unaware of a thing, past those who may have cared once, he makes up his mind and wills himself to believe it. There is nothing left for him to do.  
  
There are no goodbyes when he finally boards the ship headed for Earth, Jun’s last mission in the Delta Quadrant concluded. Nino didn’t tell anyone about his departure besides Jun because he saw no need to do so. He has an inkling Sho knows what he’s planning, but Nino has skillfully managed to avoid Sho until it’s time for him to go.  
  
He fastens his seatbelt and doesn’t look out the window until the ship is out of the space station. There’s a terse pause before the ship jumps in hyperspace, trails of stars coloring the view outside. Nino can somehow see his own reflection against them, and he doesn’t dare close his eyes for too long. He’s going to be on Earth soon. He doesn’t know what he’ll do once he’s there, but he doesn’t belong on the _Masquerade_ anymore.  
  
Whatever happens now, he tells himself he’ll be just fine.  
  
\--  
  
The moment he steps outside the spaceport, he stumbles, but he catches himself in time.  
  
The gravity is different. Not to the point that it feels as if he is suspended in the air, but perceptible in the sense that he feels lighter on his feet, like a heavy burden has been lifted off his shoulders.  
  
He wishes for that sensation to transpire into every cell in his body, so that there is enough for it to feel real.  
  
The trip back to his sister’s house takes three hours via the express train, but he takes it. Earth hasn’t changed much, he finds out as the train speeds away, cities and landscapes blending together in a myriad of hues. The towering infrastructures soon change to flat expanses of plains—green and lush, brimming with life. When he looks up, the sky is blue.  
  
Blue, green, brown.  
  
The soil is the same color he expected. There are weeds sprouting at the foot of the gate when he pushes it open with a tiny creak from the somewhat rusty hinges. A strong gust of wind could’ve pushed it, but he hears footsteps soon enough.  
  
She always knows when it’s him.  
  
“Kazu,” she says, looking at him with wide eyes. They share the same face, only that hers is softer and she lacks the mole that he has on his chin. “You’re back.”  
  
He doesn’t say a word. Just blinks at her while she does the same, and whatever reprimand she must have thought of (perhaps about him not sending word that he was to return), she seems to quell in favor of approaching him, looking up at his face.  
  
“Tell me about it inside,” is all she says, reaching behind him to snap the gate shut.  
  
He follows, smiling at the sandbox he walks past. The gravel seems recently disturbed. There are unfinished domes in various sizes and shapes, some half-eroded, some completely. His niece must have grown a couple inches taller compared to the last time he’s seen her—Christmas, if he recalls correctly.  
  
“They’re not at home,” his sister says as soon as they’re inside and there’s a steaming pot of tea between them. It’s house-brewed as always, bitter and tangy but pure, and to Nino, it’s the scent of home.  
  
“Where are they?” he asks, blowing on his tea and making tiny ripples on the surface. He would’ve wanted to see his niece.  
  
“There’s an engineering fair outside of town where the shipyard is,” his sister explains. “An exhibition of sorts. Nothing fancy, but enough to impress the people on this part of the planet, I guess. They got tickets from old man Takahashi. You remember him?”  
  
Nino manages a small smile. “Balding, as always.”  
  
“He talks about you a lot. Says he’s been looking up Union news about you ever since word got out that you’re a big-time translator for one of the ambassadors. You can imagine how proud the people here are.”  
  
In a town that mostly consists of farmers and shipyard engineers, he supposes his job was extraordinary. He may have spent his youth in the countryside, but he knew he was never going to spend the rest of his life there. It’s why he joined Nyx VII.  
  
He puts down his cup of tea and says nothing. His sister’s expression doesn’t falter—openly curious but not prying. She knows his walls, has seen him erect them. If she’s going to try something, Nino knows she won’t try to make him open up with force.  
  
“Have you eaten?” she asks. Nino couldn’t smell food earlier, and it’s early afternoon. If she made lunch, it would’ve been hours ago.  
  
“I have no appetite,” he admits.  
  
She doesn’t seem surprised, only tilts her head at him. The bun that holds most of her hair back bounces, and Nino sees a small flower adorning her hair. Surrounded by her dark locks, its off-white color draws attention. “When did you return?”  
  
“Three, four hours ago.” He doesn’t truly remember. “Took the train the moment I got back.”  
  
She sighs then reaches out across the table, palm open, in invitation. Nino looks at it, at the rivulets of blue underneath pale skin, climbing up the white of her wrist and intersecting like streets on a map.  
  
He takes her hand in his, the warmth comforting and familiar. The tea’s distinct aroma floods his senses, and his grip on her tightens. He feels her thumb stroking his knuckles in a soothing gesture, and he finally lets out a breath.  
  
“It’s with me,” he says slowly, quietly. In the lack of activity in his hometown, everything seems louder: the chirping of afternoon birds, the rustle of leaves along with the wind, the jingling of the chimes hanging in front of the door. “It’s with me everywhere I go.”  
  
His sister says nothing, but she’s listening. Nino doesn’t have to look at her to be able to tell; they’ve been in this situation before. He hears the clink of china scraping across wood, and he sees her pouring herself more tea.  
  
“Is that why you’re back?” she asks, lifting her own cup to her lips. She doesn’t let go and Nino doesn’t, too, not even when he imitates her and drinks what’s left of his tea.  
  
“It doesn’t matter where I go,” he says. He feels smaller in this house. This isn’t the same house he grew up in, but one that his sister built with her husband. It’s a two-storey farmhouse made of bricks, the bright red of which have faded into light brown over time. “It’s there. It never disappears. I thought if I went back to space it would be fine because space is big enough. Ninety percent still uncharted, can you believe that? I’ve seen so many worlds, and yet there’s still ninety percent unexplored part out there.” He’s rambling now, but she doesn’t mind. “I haven’t even seen all of the ten percent, but it doesn’t matter. It makes no difference.”  
  
“You know,” she says, hiding half of her face with the teacup, “when you left for the colony, I hated you.”  
  
Nino stills. He’s about to pull his hand away but she resists and shakes her head once.  
  
“Listen. I hated you because I thought you were a coward. I knew you didn’t want to be a farmer or a mechanic. I knew you’d try to get out of the countryside as soon as you saw the chance. And you did. And I hated you the moment I knew you were out there, being a farmer or a mechanic in some far-flung chunk in space. You were what, eleven? And you left because kids your age had nothing better to do than make fun of you.”  
  
Nino doesn’t refute her nor does he defend himself. He has no energy to. “I never fit in, you knew that. I never belonged. Not here, not out there, not in the city.”  
  
“I wouldn’t know about ‘out there’ or ‘the city’, seeing as I never left this town,” she says, setting her cup back down on the table. “I knew you had a hard time growing up.”  
  
Nino has heard this before. He hates this, the understanding she projects over the horror of bullying. She was never in the same position; how can she tell? “‘Hard’ doesn’t cut it.”  
  
She lets out a breath, rushed and annoyed. “I’m not pitying you. I’m not being all-knowing here. I know what you went through, but only because you told me about it.” She peers at him, eyes intense and focused. It’s like seeing an older version of himself examining the present one. “Now are you going to tell me or do you need more tea?”  
  
Nino pushes his cup towards her in answer. She straightens, but she keeps holding on to his hand. He doesn’t pull away, selfishly wanting the comfort she can give, even if it’s small and will fade into nothing once he lets go.  
  
She fills his cup again and slides it between them, the contents spilling a little and leaving a wet trail. She doesn’t mind and neither does he. “Kazunari,” she says, and he meets her eyes as he takes a sip, “I won’t pry. If you want to continue drinking my bitter tea all afternoon, be my guest. If you don’t want me to help, that’s okay too. But if you need me to listen, I’m sure I have the time.”  
  
She never calls him Kazunari unless he’s being deliberately obtuse. It’s her way of slapping him on the face and telling him to quit it.  
  
Nino deliberates on what to say. He watches bits of tea leaves swirl inside his cup as he twirls it in his hand, like the patterns they form can bring insight to his future. Tasseography wasn’t something he believed in, but he doesn’t believe in much these days.  
  
“I got married,” is what he decides on in the end. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows rise minutely in surprise. She glances at his free hand and Nino waves it, suddenly self-conscious. “No ring. We didn’t get married on Earth.”  
  
“I figured as much, I’ll have you know,” she answers. “And?”  
  
Nino doesn’t know how a laugh manages to escape from him. “And he was the most infuriating, particular, stubborn man on that ship. At first, he never laughed or smiled. He hated me the moment we met. Thought I was there to steal bits of his job—I was, but not in the sense he was thinking. Anyway. We didn’t get along in those first months.”  
  
“Of marriage or on the job?” she asks. There’s a hint of a smile on her lips, but it’s not teasing.  
  
“Both,” Nino admits. “We got hitched on the first mission. Ilari, have you heard of it?”  
  
She nods. “The shipyard has an Ilarian foreman.” Nino remembers that her husband works as a repair technician in the shipyard.  
  
“They married us off as a guarantee of the Union’s sincerity.”  
  
She smiles. “Not the weirdest thing that happened to you, I’d wager, but amusing nonetheless.” Her thumb is now constantly tapping against his knuckles, as if she’s encouraging him. Maybe she is. “And? You wouldn’t be back if things didn’t go well.”  
  
Nino blinks at that. “What?”  
  
Her expression turns softer. “When you came back from Nyx—thin and malnourished but alive, so alive—I stopped hating you. I realized there was no point, that you probably knew that for yourself. I still thought you were a coward for running away, but you weren’t the same person when you came back. You loved Nyx VII. You loved the people on it, the friends you’d made, the life you could’ve had.”  
  
Was he so transparent? It’s why these things haunt him—everything she’s telling him is true. Nyx VII would have been the home he’d wanted had things not turned for the worst.  
  
“And when you came back, I saw just how much. But then it was taken from you. The fulfillment, the happiness—you did send this message that bragged of your good fortune—, the peace. It wasn’t the countryside farming you’d imagined, but out there, you were making a difference, little by little.” She sighs. “But you had to walk away from that to get back on your feet again.”  
  
The memories remain with him though. He can recall how life in Nyx VII was like. Peaceful and normal as any day he’d spent in the countryside, but so different since every plant he nurtured, every rice grain he helped mill, they contributed to a then-possible future. It didn’t lead to a stagnant way of living. It wasn’t routinary. Each action paved the way to the growth of the colony, of their population. He _was_ making a difference. Everything he did had purpose.  
  
Her hold on him shifts, delicate fingers now wrapped around his wrist. He imitates her, finding the steady thrum of her pulse calming.  
  
“Kazu,” she says, and he looks at her, “you only come back when you’ve found something nice and have to walk away from it.”  
  
He looks away, takes a couple of deep breaths. His tea remains untouched, leaves settling at the bottom, the color of the brew similar to the faded hue of the brick walls that formed this house. The brown in his colors.  
  
“I let it all go. I tried. And for a while it worked,” he says, eyes shut. “It even felt real. But then something happens, like the last time, and just like that, nothing’s the same anymore.” He has to swallow to get the next bits out. “He was, in a way, related to the last days of Nyx. And I got to know of it in the worst way possible.”  
  
“Was it so bad for you that you had to drop it all and go?” she asks, and that makes Nino open his eyes. “I don’t understand, Kazu. I never will, because I wasn’t there on Nyx with you. I’m never going to know exactly how it felt. But you wouldn’t be here if it didn’t feel so real that there’s a part of you that hates how things turned out.”  
  
“He reminded me of things,” Nino says, refusing to say the name. It would just make it more real, that he’s on Earth and the _Masquerade_ is still on its way to the space station above Earth. “And exposed me to things I never knew. It came back all of a sudden, like I was just fresh from being rescued and still couldn’t believe I was alive, that I made it out alive.”  
  
“Do you think you should’ve stayed? Or was your running justified?”  
  
He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”  
  
She smiles, small but gentle. “Liar.”  
  
Nino straightens at that. He meets her eyes and finds no judgment there, just her calling him out on his bullshit. “It’s not fair,” he says, like he’s eleven again and he’s crying from a bad dream and she has her arms around him, shushing him and telling him it’s okay. “It’s not fair to him if...if I’m this way.” He breaks eye contact and stares at his tea instead, cold now but still emitting the distinct scent. “I don’t know if what I had with him was real, but it felt like that.”  
  
His voice cracks. “It really felt like that.”  
  
He feels her thumb stroking the bony part of his wrist in circles. “It’s not fair to you either.”  
  
That makes Nino look at his sister, allowing her to see inside him without all the pretenses. His walls never worked too long on her.  
  
“It’s not fair to you both. You’ve realized this, I’m sure. You’re smarter than me, Kazu. Braver too. It’s why you were able to leave the planet. I hated you because I was never going to be a risk-taker like you. At sixteen I interpreted that as cowardice on your part, the fact that you took a shuttle to run away from those bullying you. But as I got older, I realized I’m the one who’s afraid to leave. I hated you because you were able to do that.”  
  
She reaches out and holds both of his hands now. Her wedding ring digs into his skin but he doesn’t take notice, only keeps his hands in hers, afraid that if he lets go, he won’t be able to feel anything anymore. “I would never have the strength to walk away,” she admits, smiling at him. “So the fact that you were able to do that because you knew you had to, you needed to, that’s something. In the end it’s not fair, but who’s to say it won’t change in time?”  
  
Nino laughs a little; he can’t help it. “You think I’d get better? I tried. I moved to the city, and when that wasn’t enough, I ventured into outer space. I gave myself time. I allowed myself to be happy. Nothing worked.”  
  
“I can’t fight your demons for you, Kazu,” she says, and it hits him like a splash of cold water on the face. “No one can. I can’t even tell you what to do. But I know that you know. Somewhere in you, you know. And when you get there, _when_ you’re better, you’re going to know what to do.”  
  
She lets go of one of his hands to reach out, wiping away a tear that streaked his cheek. He didn’t even feel it fall.  
  
“You’ll get there,” she says, and Nino, for the first time in twenty-three years, cries.  
  
\--  
  
He finds a teaching job somewhere close to the shipyard. The hum of engines and welding machines is a familiar noise now. Somehow, knowing that vessels that are set to venture into outer space are being made around him is soothing in its own peculiar way.  
  
He doesn’t accept his sister’s offer of living in the spare bedroom, rather, he goes to find a place he can call his own. Smaller than his quarters in the _Masquerade_ , but he fills it with things that help him remember who he is—holorecords of Nyx VII, theses and write-ups about the colony, accounts of survivors that he never bothered to look up before. He doesn’t have the necessary clearances to get to the truth of things since that remains classified information, but the bits he discovers, he holds on to. He’s had enough of running.  
  
He’s trying something different now.  
  
In the mornings, he goes to the nearby language school and teaches twenty-five students about the languages he knows. He hones his Ilarian, Zuran, and takes it upon himself to study Grenus’ native tongue. Elioni, he gives up on. He just can’t do it.  
  
One night, he borrows his brother-in-law’s speeder and searches for a particular establishment.  
  
He impresses the owner with card magic, and she praises him for having quick hands and skills. He comes back every week to show her a new trick, her smile bright and truly amazed every time he pulls out the correct card from the stack.  
  
His weekly visits that made him a regular, turn twice a week in a matter of months. He gets to explore every bit of the place—from the roof, the walls, the thrusters that keep it afloat in the midst of such a busy complex, the kind smile the owner has for him every time she sees it’s him.  
  
The years burn.  
  
\--  
  
From up here, the world looks as he remembered the last time.  
  
That’s the first thing he notices. Earth is one planet in the vastness of space, a habitable chunk that has a space station floating above it. The king on the chessboard, representing the home of the Union, an organization that strives for peace despite its mistakes.  
  
There is no female officer waiting to guide him this time, but he finds his way. His feet remember where to go, his hands recall what to do. His forefinger presses the 35th floor in the elevator and he watches calmly as the numbers increase one by one, indicating that he’s merely passing by all these floors.  
  
It might be too soon or too late when he hears the tiny ding that indicates that he has reached his destination, but he doesn’t linger on it. He steps out as soon as the doors open to reveal a room that is so vast and sparsely decorated he could probably transform it to a lounge to make use of all the space.  
  
“Are you an applicant, sir?” he hears, and he finds a woman sitting behind a desk that he can’t remember seeing before. This, he thinks, is one of the things that have changed.  
  
“Yes,” he says, showing the tag he printed out back at home as per instructions. “I’m applicant number forty-six.”  
  
The woman nods, handing him a data pad. “Please sign your name for confirmation.”  
  
He does, and he is ushered in a waiting room where six other people are seated in silence. He’s been to job interviews before, but never for this. He thinks he likes the change from last time.  
  
He waits with the rest, keeping his hands folded on his lap as numbers get flashed on the holoscreen, applicants being asked to leave the room and enter the one adjacent to it. He listens to the slow, rhythmic beat of whatever contemporary piece the Union chooses to play on their speakers. Or maybe it’s not the Union responsible for this song. What he hears sounds like it’s right up his future employer’s alley.  
  
Being applicant number forty-six means he is the last one to be interviewed, and he knows that his co-applicants are relieved that they are not the ones in his position. The interviewer must be tired, he hears them say on their way out. They also say that they would hate to be the last one because that means the interview is going to be rushed.  
  
He knows who is behind that door. He doesn’t think that will happen.  
  
When the number 46 finally appears on the holoscreen in front of him, he stands and straightens his clothes, walking towards the interview room in confident strides.  
  
“Have a seat,” the interviewer tells him as soon as the doors slide shut. The man doesn’t look up. He appears to be finalizing applicant number 45’s information.  
  
There is a large window behind the interviewer that is overlooking the stars, and the sight of them is soothing in an inexplicable way.  
  
He smiles and remains standing by the doors. “I respectfully decline.”  
  
The man seated behind the desk snaps his head up immediately, his face in absolute shock. His hands freeze in their movements, fingers hovering awkwardly over a data pad.  
  
“Nino,” Sho breathes, like he can’t believe it.  
  
Nino tilts his head, raising the applicant number tag that he printed out. “Applicant number forty-six,” he reads for Sho, who sits unmoving still. “Whose idea was it to ditch the names? Yours or Jun-kun’s?”  
  
Sho has to take a few seconds to recover and to swallow a lump in his throat before he can get some words out. “The Ambassador wanted to eliminate bias and thought it would be better if we assigned numbers. To be as impersonal as possible and to give the applicants a sense of equality.”  
  
“Eliminate bias,” Nino repeats, taking a few steps closer to the provided chair. “Spoken like a true worker for the Union, I see. But I had to put my name on the application form. Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”  
  
“The Ambassador insisted on handling the assignment of numbers himself. He wanted to be the one to personally review the applicant’s résumés this time. I had no access to them,” Sho explains. The earlier shock has ebbed away, but Sho is still looking at him like he’s not real.  
  
Nino supposes that this is what two years of separation and silence cause.  
  
“So he knew I applied for it and didn’t tell you,” Nino says. “Typical Matsumoto Jun, I’d say.” He takes a seat on the provided chair then, crossing his legs at the knee. “You’re doing the preliminary interviews?”  
  
“Yes,” Sho says and clears his throat, seeming to remember that he’s in the middle of his job.  
  
“Then ask me things you don’t know,” Nino tells him. He hasn’t seen Sho’s face for too long. He finds that he misses it, although Sho did get a few more wrinkles on certain parts of his face. Two years made him age faster than he should have, and perhaps Nino is partly responsible for that. He did leave Sho to do all the work alone.  
  
It takes Sho some moments to compose himself. “How have you been?” he asks in the end, like he’s afraid of overstepping boundaries or has too many questions threatening to spill out of his mouth and can’t decide which to give voice to first.  
  
“Not as old as you,” Nino says with a smile, “but feeling twice as old. Maybe. I’ve been on Earth for a while, teaching languages to people who have the mind to listen. I think some of your applicants were my former students.”  
  
Sho nods, seemingly satisfied with his explanation. Nino thinks he may have missed Sho and the way he looks down when he is embarrassed. His body language remains the same and Nino can read through every movement with accuracy.  
  
“You’re wondering why I’m here,” Nino concludes. And if I want you for you.  
  
“You can’t blame me, not after two years,” Sho retorts weakly.  
  
“Aiba-shi never told you anything?” When he and Aiba had finally met in the Aiba family's floating restaurant, Aiba cried and nearly tackled him to the ground, calling him a ‘selfish bastard who deserves a punch’. Nino protested when Aiba’s threat proved to be empty. He believed he earned it after what he did.  
  
It was through Aiba that Nino found out about the translator post opening.  
  
“You’ve been meeting him?” Sho asks, stunned.  
  
“I’ve met with his mom and dad more times than I can count ever since I went back. Of course I have been meeting him. We used to have beer Tuesdays at the Aiba family establishment. So he didn’t tell you a thing. I’m surprised. I’ll have you know I didn’t ask him to do that.”  
  
“I wouldn’t dare to presume.”  
  
Silence lingers once more, seconds passing by with them merely looking at each other. Sho still in varying states of disbelief and, when Nino searches for it, fear. Like he thinks Nino is simply an apparition and will disappear in moments.  
  
“If you have any questions regarding my qualifications as an applicant,” Nino says, lips twitching to point at the data pad in front of Sho, “I have provided character references in my résumé.”  
  
Sho’s fingers move with deftness, accessing said file, and Nino can’t help grinning when Sho sighs and shakes his head.  
  
“It says here that your first and only character reference is Matsumoto Jun,” Sho tells him, looking close to laughing.  
  
Nino nods. “The only one that matters given the job, I thought.”  
  
“Seems to me you and him already have a candidate in mind.”  
  
“Said candidate believes he is cut for the job. He also believes that this won’t end like the last time, but he understands the concern.”  
  
Sho’s shoulders slump at that, then he looks at Nino with wondering eyes. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”  
  
“Not anymore. I did my research, you know. Something I should have done the last time. But better late than never, wouldn’t you agree?” Nino stands, walking to where Sho is. “After all,” he adds, voice dropping to a whisper when he’s close enough, “I’m still married to you.”  
  
He gestures to the data pad again, smiling as Sho powers it back on and scrolls up.  
  
“You didn’t change your status,” Sho says. There’s this lilt of happiness in his voice. Nino assumes he is feeling intensely relieved for reasons unknown. It’s just like him not to check on Nino, perhaps thinking it would be an invasion of Nino’s privacy. Nino wasn’t the only one who kept distance.  
  
“Unless in the past two years you have committed adultery or have become insane, then no.”  
  
Sho looks up at him, sheer disbelief on his face. His brows are furrowed and his mouth is hanging open, and Nino only raises his eyebrow.  
  
“Two years,” Sho whispers incredulously. “Two years and you never—?”  
  
Nino laughs, head thrown back, shoulders shaking. He feels lighter somehow. “Two years and it was just my hand and a bunch of pornographic holofilms on mute. It was lonely.” He shakes his head, still chuckling under his breath. “Kidding aside, no. I never. Because there was no one.”  
  
No one else he can imagine for it to work with. Of the two of them, Sho has the right to be shocked. Sho doesn’t look like he has gotten any action given the work environment that he lives in, which must have been extremely stressful after Nino’s resignation. They both had their ways of coping—Nino with leaving, Sho with working and drowning everything else out.  
  
“On paper I’m here for the translator position,” he says seriously, holding Sho’s gaze in his own. “Other than that, I’m here to see if all of what we had shared will still turn out to be real even after I carelessly tossed it aside. If you let me, I’ll try to do better.”  
  
“It won’t be easy,” Sho says, taking the words out of Nino’s mouth.  
  
“It won’t,” he acknowledges. “But I want to try. I’ve been doing a lot of trying. So if you can bear with that, if you want to, I’ll be happy to try again. I’ll do my best.” He knows his words don’t mean much. Why would they? He left before. Even Nino doesn’t know if he’s not going to leave again. He can never say for sure, and Sho looks like he understands.  
  
“If not,” Nino continues, “that’s fine with me and I completely understand.” It will hurt, but that can go unsaid. Nino purses his lips in uncertainty.  
  
Sho studies his face, as if searching for a hint of rejection or a lie somewhere. He’s having a ‘pinch me’ moment, and if he asks, Nino will gladly oblige just to assure him that this is all happening right now, that he is here and the furthest thing from his mind is to walk away and leave everything behind.  
  
“Just so we’re clear,” Sho says, rising from his seat and moving to stand in front of the windows showing a view of outside, “we still can’t annul it. I don’t think I am insane.”  
  
“I would hate it if you were,” Nino says honestly, standing beside him. When Sho’s fingers brush against his knuckles, Nino threads their fingers together, finding the warmth still so familiar and comforting, like nothing has changed. In his heart, he is thankful that he still has this to go back to even after everything.  
  
“If we’re going to try again,” Sho tells him, eyes fixed on the inky blackness outside, “I think we should open up more. That mostly goes for me, I guess. But if there’s anything you think I should know, tell me. I promise to try doing the same.”  
  
Nino squeezes his hand. “I can work with that.”  
  
Sho doesn’t say anything anymore, and Nino allows it all to wash over him: the feeling of Sho being so close after years apart, the acceptance settling inside him, the unspoken apologies, the overdue forgiveness felt and understood without saying.  
  
He looks out and thinks he can understand what the stars are telling him.  
  
_Welcome home._

**Author's Note:**

> The PTSD present in this story is classified as mild.
> 
> Nino's history is actually based on the backstory of one Star Trek TOS episode (The Conscience of the King), expanded to suit my purposes. To give an overview: Nino joins an off-world colony and after more than a year of staying, a rare fungus starts destroying the crops, leading to famine. The governor of the colony decides to reduce the colony's population by implementing mass executions starting with the adults. **None** of these events were explored in detail, or the horror of the entire event relived. However if that bothers you still, feel free to skip this one. Read responsibly.
> 
> Some terminologies I owe to Memory Alpha, but they’ve been altered so as not to completely borrow from the franchise. However, since Star Trek is the main inspo for this thing, there's a not so subtle reference inserted. Ilari, in Star Trek universe, is really in the Delta Quadrant.
> 
> Title is from E. E. Cummings. This story has a graphic post which can be found [here](http://montiels.tumblr.com/post/146781186951/as-the-ambassadors-private-secretary-you-are). My thanks to tumblr user montiels for being enthusiastic about this story more than anyone else.


End file.
